


The One to Hold my Heart

by lostunderthemountain



Series: Wolf of Durin's Line (For You Shall be My Lady Love) [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward Fíli, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Battle of Five Armies, Beorn gives people cool nicknames, Bilbo notices too much, Bofur and Nori do more than shag guys, Bofur has a drinking problem, Dark Thorin, Durin Family Angst, Durin Family Feels, F/M, Fíli Angst, Kíli is scandalised, Kíli's hurt, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Most of the time, Multi, Poor Fíli, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Spiders are evil, Strangulation, Tags to be added, Thorin and Dwalin aren't helping, Thorin is axe over arse for his hobbit, Thranduil gets an idea, Wolf of Durin's Line, always-a-girl!kili, and a bad One, and you know when i said that Thorin and Dwalin weren't helping?, awkward moment, bard loves his family, burn motherfuckers, darrowdam!kili, dwarves have weird customs, elves have weird ways of healing people, fem!Kili, fili acts all heroic, hail Bard the awesome!, honestly fili, i'll just get that out of the way now, it's useless, khuzdul is abused, kili and tauriel are friends, kili is probably the only one who's really afraid of nori, kill's paid too much attention to Dwalin swearing, roughly, self body shaming, smaug's all like, so does bofur, sort of, specifically it's Dwalin more than Thorin, spur of the moment love confessions, stupid elves, stupid orcs, thorin is a bad uncle, to which Nori is contributing to, tw: periods, well…one mentioned at any rate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostunderthemountain/pseuds/lostunderthemountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You put your arms around me, and I'm home</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dwarves have a One True Love; a predestined partner for them to love and cherish for all their days.<br/>However, finding your One is never easy and accepting the fact of who (or what) your One is…<em>varies</em> for every dwarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So…yeah, this is my first fic on this site… I hope you like it :D

_Part One_

 

Kíli wouldn’t be a normal dwarfling, Thorin had decided.

Dís, Thorin’s sister, his last sibling, had laboured for two and a half days to bring the new Durin heir into the world without her _loving_ husband (and Thorin said _that_ bitterly) Víli by her side. Óin later told the dwarf king of how the Princess had begged for death on several occasions. Thorin couldn’t be present because he was tasked with keeping Fíli occupied and as far away from the house as possible.

As such, the pair was by the edge of the forest, Thorin trying to teach Fíli the basics of battle strategy, but the babe was more interested in his toy lion. The dark haired dwarf had _just_ begun to feign interest in his nephew’s burbled tale (which was a mix of Khuzdul and Westron) when Glóin appeared.

“Thorin, it’s here!”  He gasped, leaning on his knees.

Thorin didn’t even stop to think; he just started sprinting down the dirt road to the shack they called a home, not noticing Fíli trying to stumble him.

He stamped down the hallway to the main room, which had been transformed into his sister’s room for her confinement. 

“Dís?” he called out as he came closer to the door.

“Thorin,” his sister sounded strong still…that…that was good, “Thorin, come look at her.”

_Her?_

Thorin pushed the door open slowly to the sight of Dís on the bed holding a bundle of blankets while Óin was packing away his equipment.

“My King.” The healer bowed. Thorin nodded to his cousin distractedly, moving closer to the bed.

“ _Her_ , namadith?” he asked, his voice beginning to crack. Dís beamed despite her tiredness.

“The line of Durin is truly blessed.” She whispered…

“…I do not think the use name you have chosen will suit her though.” Thorin chuckled slightly, but it faded away when he saw his sister wilt…

 “I…I cannot name her nadad.” She confessed, “I was so _convinced_ it would be a boy…”

“Mama?”

The two royals turned to see Glóin in the doorway, Fíli in his arms.

“I’m sorry my lady but he insisted.” The red bearded dwarf said by explanation. Dís smiled, gesturing for them to come closer. Fíli squirmed so much that Glóin had to put him on the bed next to Dís.

“Fíli? Fíli meet your sister.”

The boy’s sapphire blue eyes (which proved he truly was one of Durin’s line) widened.

“ _‘Mizim ‘Abadaz_.” He breathed. The adults all looked at each other.

“What makes you say that, little lion?” Dís asked him. Fíli looked up at her, all innocence and golden curls.

“It’s her _name_ Mama, didn’t you know that?”

 _That_ was unexpected.

“What shall be her use name then, little prince?” Glóin asked amusedly, in an attempt to stop the youngster noticing the worried looks his uncle and mother were sharing.

“Fíli!” the boy chirped, making them all laugh.

“You can’t have the same use name Khuzdith.” Thorin told him, a smile making a way to his lips despite it all.

Fíli giggled in the way only children could.

“Kíli! Call her Kíli!” he cried excitedly, then, “Can I hold her Mama?”

Dís hesitated slightly. Fíli wasn’t much more than a babe himself, surely he couldn’t…

“Please Mama.” Fíli begged, “I be extra careful pwomise!”

Dís sighed,

“Very well little lion.” Dís ignored the eyebrow her brother raised and how Glóin fiddled with his beard (Óin was blissfully unaware, still caught up in his craft).

Slowly, carefully, Dís lowered the newborn babe into her son’s arms, gently correcting him – _“Hold her head little lion”_ – until Fíli was cradling the babe, beaming proudly.

“Kíli.” He enunciated clearly, “My Kíli.” The boy ducked his head to place a light kiss on the babe’s forehead.

Dís stiffened at that, Thorin breathed in sharply while Gloin simply raised an eyebrow. Fíli just burrowed closer to his mother, cooing over his new sister.

“Brother!” Glóin called, “We should leave them now.”

Óin’s raised silvering eyebrows were the only indicator of his surprise. Thorin and Dís knew what to do, but…

“Send for me should anything happen.” The healer told them as he left. The siblings nodded distractedly, not taking their eyes off of Fíli.

“What does this mean Kurdu?” Dís asked her brother once her children had both fallen asleep – Fíli’s grip not loosening from his sister.

“It is meant, Lukhudel.” Thorin whispered hoarsely, “Whether they realise this or not is up to them, but we cannot stop it, not really.”

“People will not understand…” the Princess began to panic. Why would the Maker condemn her children like this? They were _innocent!_ “They will claim it to be the madness…”

“Dís!” Thorin barked, pausing to restrain his anger when he saw Fíli stir, “All will be well, I swear it.”

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

And so Fíli and Kíli grew, never leaving each other’s side. Dís would marvel over how Fíli always seemed to know what his sister needed and what she liked. Thorin, personally, thought it was hilarious that his nephew always carried Kíli around, even when he was seventeen and she was twelve and they were practically the same size. _“Feewee up!”_ was a constant cry in the Durins’ shack but nobody would change it for the world, even if Dís wanted to have had liked to be a little bit more involved in her daughter’s upbringing. Thorin had wanted to be present for _every second_ of their lives, a fact that Dwalin teased him for often when they were eating in a tavern after a hard day working and he’d caught Thorin staring at the picture of the pair and Dís he carried around…

 

However, they couldn’t remain young children forever. A fact that was made abundantly clear to their uncle when he returned to the settlement one summer to collect Dwalin and Glóin…not that they _needed_ collecting…

"Uncle! Uncle!!" Kíli cried out, running down the path as fast as her legs could carry her. Thorin laughed and swept her up into his arms.

“What have my sister’s troublesome children been getting up to in my absence then?” He asked when Fíli joined them.

“Nothing too terrible Uncle.” Fíli told him innocently, “Mister Dwalin says that I’ll be able to start my proper training as soon as this autumn!”

“I’ll be able to assist you then, my sister-son.” Thorin ruffled the boy’s blonde curls affectionately, “And what about you Kíli?”

Kíli pouted, “Mister Dwalin said I’m not allowed t’ train, cause I’m too young an’ a girl…well he didn’t _say_ that bit but he _meant_ it. An’ if Fee can learn how to fight why can’t I Uncle?”

Thorin frowned. Dwalin meant well, really he did, but he was a traditionalist and - like many - frowned at the idea of women on the battlefield. Dís had proved herself the equal of anyone on the battlefield before the fall of Erebor (even if she hadn’t really been _on_ the battlefield) so surely Kíli would be able to do the same…

If Dís let her, that is…

“I’ll talk to your mother, little one, and see what we can come up with.” He was rewarded with Kíli’s excited giggle.

“Fíli! Kíli! I’ve told you time and time again not to leave your toys in the doorway!”

 

By the time autumn came around, Kíli had turned twenty and Thorin, Dwalin and Glóin had returned to Ered Luin for the autumn and winter months. They did, of course, bring gifts. For Fíli there was a wooden sword, carved from oak by a smith in Bree in exchange for their expertise. It felt odd when he held it, like he was being dragged down on one side. Kíli had shrugged, suggesting that it was because he wasn’t used to holding a sword yet. When Kíli had asked about a sword for _her_ , Thorin had chuckled.

“I’ll show you your gift tomorrow sweet niece, while Dwalin and Fíli begin the sword training.”

Tomorrow, it seemed, couldn’t come soon enough.

Kíli bounced in her seat at breakfast, amusing her mother, as Kíli was usually grumpy in the mornings. A characteristic she shared with her uncle, considering Thorin was on his second mug of coffee already. Kíli continued to bounce as the three left the house. She still tackled her brother in a fierce hug when it came for them to be separated, but it was easier to convince her to let him go. Thorin led her to the forest edge, which could still be seen from the training grounds, and presenting her with his gift.

“That’s a bow.” She stated bluntly

“Yes Kíli, it is.”

“But bows are elf weapons!” She protested, “I thought I was going to learn to use a sword!” Thorin sighed, kneeling down so he could meet her eyes.

“There is no shame in learning how to use a bow, niece, despite any other connotations they have.” He grinned slightly, “Who knows, you might be better than me.”

Kíli gasped in shock,

“ _You_ learned how to use a bow Uncle?”

“As a Prince of Erebor I had to excel in many different areas…and I didn’t really want to make a fool of myself in front of the elves.” _that_ made her giggle again. “Now, stance is very important, just like with a sword…”Thorin directed her in how to hold the bow, raising her arms slightly and “ _put your legs to be shoulder width apart Kíli, or you might lose your balance._ ” Before teaching her how to knock an arrow “ _Gently, sweet niece, you have time to practice your speed.”_

“Can I try shooting at something Uncle?” Kíli asked eventually. Thorin looked around before finding the perfect target.

“Do you see that knot there?” he asked, pointing. The knot wasn’t that far up its tree, roughly a quarter of the way up. Kíli nodded eagerly, “Try that.”

The girl shuffled her feet, knocked the arrow _slowly_ , and brought it level to her eye. Then – breathing out - she let the arrow go.

It whizzed through the air, faster than the ponies Mister Glóin had had once before embedding itself…below the knot. Kíli frowned.

“I missed.”

Thorin chuckled lightly, “You did better than most do on their first try sweet niece, most don’t hit anywhere close.” He ruffled her hair, “Keep practicing though, and before you know it you’ll be able to take down an orc.”

Kíli grinned impishly,

“Not just _an_ orc Uncle.”

The pair spent the rest of the morning by the forest. Arrow after arrow flew (some closer to the mark than others) until – with a thud – an arrow found its way to the direct centre of the knot.

“I did it!” Kíli cried out, jumping up and down, “I did it Uncle!” She giggled, gripping the bow tight, “Wait ’til Fee finds out!”

Thorin laughed at her excitement, “We should go find him then, Dwalin is only supposed to keep him for the morning anyway.”

Kíli gasped and took off at full speed, slinging her new bow over her shoulders and leaving Thorin to collect the arrows. He still laughed though, having never seen her so exuberant outside of Fíli’s presence.

By the time Thorin had caught up with her, his niece was describing everything to her brother in great detail, eyes alight and he was struck with almost horror over _how much_ she looked like his brother Frerin.

“A bow?” Dwalin’s gruff drawl came from his right, and only from practise did Thorin not jump, “Not really a suitable choice for a Princess…”

“It makes her happy.” Thorin reasoned.

“And Uncle says I can have _warcraft_ lessons when I’m older.” Kíli’s high-pitched voice drifted over to them.

“Oh do yeh now?” Dwalin didn’t look too surprised though.

“She shows promise,” the king gave the guard a slanted look, “And you know as well as I do that she’d find a way to learn even _if_ she was forbidden from it.”

The taller of the two snorted, not denying it, for it was the truth.

“How does Fíli fare with a sword?”

“He’s…he’s as good as to be expected fer a beginner, but I wouldn’t be tha’ shocked if it took time for him to learn how to hold his own with _one_ sword.”

Thorin sighed, what else was he really expecting?

 

* * *

Fíli swore to himself as his scribbled out _another_ word.

“Fee, Fee, Fíli!”

Aulë help him, his mother would find herself with only one child again if Kíli didn’t shut up.

“Fee!”

“What?” he snarled, looking up from his work with a glare, feeling proud at (if a wee bit guiltily) seeing his sister flinch.

“I-I…I was just wondering if you wanted…if you wanted to spar?” she mumbled, scuffing her boot against the floor. Fíli softened, why could he never stay mad at her?

“I’m sorry namadith, but Mister Balin wants me to do this extra work by tomorrow.”

“What…what is it?” Kíli tilted her head, looking like one of those puppies he’d seen at the market not last week.

“Sindarin.” Fíli wrinkled his nose. While he didn’t really share their uncle’s hatred of the elves, he _did_ have a few problems with the language. Kíli, however, lit up.

“I can help! Then you can spar with me!” She clambered up into his lap and snagged the quill from his limp hands. Fíli simply wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder and listened to her explain after subconsciously pressing a kiss to her temple.

Dís watched the pair with a slight smile on her lips. They were nigh on inseparable - even _Thorin_ was against keeping them apart, despite how it may have seemed to most.

 

 

* * *

 

Fíli tugged at his hair uselessly, staring up at Thorin with blank blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, my sister-son.” The king ( _king!_ ) said, squeezing the blonde’s shoulder, “This is not how I wished for you to find out.”

Fíli nodded absently, trying to find a way to run.

“Take these to your sister.” Thorin instructed him roughly, “She’ll know what to do.”

Fíli nodded again, taking what was offered and, numb to his uncle and mother arguing, walked slowly to his and Kíli’s room. She was sat on their bed sharpening one of his swords for him, considering he’d won their sparring match today.

“Fee!” she cried out, eyes lighting up and her mouth forming a smile, which faded at the look on his face, “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

“Uncle-” Fíli swallowed. Saying it made it seem too real, “Uncle has named me his heir.”

“Oh…” what more was there to say? All their lives they’d been told tales of Erebor, how glorious it had been before the dragon. But it had seemed so far away, as if it was another life, a dream. Now the fact of their heritage was so blatantly _there_ , unavoidable.

“He g-gave me these.” Fíli held up to silver, tube-like beads that are decorated with Khuzdul runes.

“Come here.” His sister patted the bed beside her, an invitation he accepted without hesitating. Kíli liberated the thick lock of hair beside his right ear and began combing her fingers through it, “When did he tell you?”

“He didn’t.” Fíli murmured, “Dwalin yelled it at a couple of Men. They were harassing me you see, thinking I was a lass.”

Kíli snorted, threading his hair into a braid, “More fool them. I suppose Uncle wasn’t happy?”

“More…more resigned I think, I would have found out anyway really. Mama was furious though, they were arguing when I left…” the blonde tugged at bit of hair, an old habit to show that he was nervous, “I’m _scared_ , Kee, I’m thirty six! I can’t be expected…”

“I don’t think they’re expecting anything nadad.” The younger finished off the braid and closed one of the beads around it, “If they do they’re fools.”

Fíli’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile, “Where did you learn to do this?” he gestured to the braid.

“Mama taught me.” Kíli shrugged, starting the next braid on the opposite side, “It’s tradition apparently, the younger braids the elder’s hair.”

Fíli laughed. It was hollow and short, but he _laughed_ and kissed her forehead, “I’m glad I’ve got you then, namadith.”

 

* * *

Dís knew something was wrong. She could feel it in her gut.

Fíli had come down in the morning, saying that Kíli wasn’t feeling very well. And that she had practically kicked him out of the bed.

After sending both her brother and son out to the forge, with a promise she’d be along later, Dís made her way to her children’s room with a breakfast tray in hand.

“Kíli?” she called, pushing the weak wooden door open gently.

Her daughter was curled up in the bed, nothing visible save several tufts of jet coloured hair and dark, fearful amber eyes.

“Oh my nathith.” Dís sighed, “Whatever is the matter.”

“It hurts Mama…” the younger princess whimpered, “I woke up and the-there was b-blood ‘tween ma legs and I had to get rid of Fee before he saw and I think I hurt him and…”

Dís smiled,

“It’s alright little one,” she pushed the tufts of hair back soothingly, “Shall I draw you a bath? I’ve brought you some breakfast…”

Kíli whimpered again, which Dís took as an affirmative. The mother set the tray down on the bed (where it was less likely to be knocked by moving sheets) and, with a final stroke of Kíli’s hair, left to fill the bath with fresh, warmer water.

 

**_-:-_ **

 

Kíli plucked at the threads of her shirt-turned-dress. If this was what it meant to be a woman then she’d rather throw herself to the dragon that had taken Erebor from them.

Her mother had instructed her to stuff extra (clean) rags of clothe down her smallclothes to help with the blood – but they didn’t help with the pain! It was like she had wargs tearing at her innards! Her mother had cooked her favourite breakfast for her and had stroked her hair in comfort, something that hadn’t been happening recently.

Dís hadn’t allowed her daughter to attend any warcraft lessons and told Balin she was giving the younger princess her own type of lessons today. _The Talk_ was single-handedly the most terrifying thing Kíli had ever heard in her short life. Well, some parts were. Other parts made her face turn ruby red.

Dís had laughed before dragging her daughter out to the market, as they needed things for the dinner they were meant to be cooking with the Lady Surthi, Glóin’s Firebeard of a wife, mother of their little cousin Gimli and one of the head-figures in the dwarven community. Kíli looked up to Surthi in her own way, appreciating the intimacies of the politics she could weave together to create a positive outcome for the majority of the settlement, instead of letting certain lords get away with hoarding most things for themselves and letting the ‘common folk’ suffer for it.

Surthi had known what was wrong with her immediately too. The darrowdam had taken Kíli into her arms and let the lass cry into her garnet-like hair while Dís was at the forge with Thorin, Dwalin and Fíli.

“It’ll get better, khahith, it’s just this first time.” Surthi had told her softly. Of course Kíli would have inherited _this_ from her Firebeard ancestors; the fiery agony that no Longbeard could understand.

Now Kíli was hacking at some carrots, trying to make them into even pieces.

“How many do we need again?” she called loudly.

“Enough for the men to notice that they’re in there!” Surthi replied, expertly filleting the meat. Dís snorted, fresh from a bath.

“Dwalin and Thorin would only recognize what they were eating if a severed toe was floating in it. Balin and Óin will appreciate the effort. Even _you_ can’t imagine that Glóin and Gimli would notice them Surthi.”

“Fíli will like them though,” Kíli piqued up, “He likes vegetables, especially fried mushrooms.”

Silence reigned for the next hour, until the men of the Durin Line all marched through the door, weapons or books trailing after them.

“Wash your hands first, no soot or sweat is ruining this meal!” Surthi commanded imperiously, flapping her hands at Glóin to get him to move. Kíli was just fishing out the vegetables when two hands planted on his hips. Twisting, she could see Fíli looking at her concernedly.

“Are you alright Kee?” he asked, “Mama said you have the um…moon sickness.”

“I’m fine.” Unbidden, the more embarrassing parts of her mother’s talk sprung to her mind, making Kíli’s face burn red again.

“Are you sure,” Fíli brushed a finger across her cheek, “You’re like the forge!”

“It’s nothing, just the heat from the stove.” She lied, batting his hand away, “Now go sit down or we’ll never have dinner!"

Unbeknown to them both, the adults were watching their every move.

 

_End of Part One_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mizim Abadaz - Jewel of the Mountain (Kíli's true name)
> 
> Kurdu - Heart (part of Thorin's true name)
> 
> Lukhudel - Light of Lights (Dís' true name)
> 
> namadith - little sister (literally 'the sister that is young')
> 
> nathith - daughter


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli continue to grow together, learning some hard truths and getting some bitter reminders from them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character death at the beginning of this chapter.

_Part Two_

 

Kíli took a deep breath and fixed her gaze forward. She knew this day would come, she just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

Dís, daughter of Thráin, son of Thror, was being returned to stone. She’d died quietly, compared to many of the miners in Ered Luin and the warriors at Khazad-dûm. It’d been a disease, one that had addled her senses over time. Kíli had been the last person to see her alive.

 

_“Do you want to know something my nathith?” Dís had mumbled, weaving braids of honour and courage into Kíli’s hair. The younger had nodded slowly; it was best to agree when she was like this._

_“When I was carrying you, I went to the Grey Havens to parley with the elves. Cirdan – the Head Elf there – placed his hand on my stomach and told me that the child born would be brave, honest and so beautiful, a friend to all.”_

_Kíli blinked, wondering how that was right; she wasn’t considered a beauty in Ered Luin – too fair and elf-like._

_“And you will be, you and your brother: two gems that’ll shine brighter than the Arkenstone as you stand together ruling Erebor.”_

 

By her side stood Fíli, what amount of beard he’d grown shaved to merely stubble with only the moustache remaining the same length from before.

 

_Fíli sniffed wetly._

_“She’d hate you for that.” Kíli said from the doorway, her own eyes red and puffy, “She’d yell at you and make you chop wood for the rest of the day.”_

_“I have to do this Kíli.” He said shortly, “I failed her.”_

_“No you didn’t,” She insisted, “Óin said it was hopeless –”_

_“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t of tried!” Fíli raged, throwing his knife into the iron bowl, “I should have done **something** …instead I let our amad **waste away**!” _

 

Their uncle stood by the tomb that now held her mother. He looked like nothing had happened as he led the rites of passing, praying to Mahal that He would accept _Lukhudel_ into the Halls. Kíli swallowed and grabbed her brother’s hand for reassurance.

 

_Kíli squirmed closer to her brother, trying to stem her own tears as they listened to their uncle howl in the night, asking why and begging for a trade: himself for his sister – **anything** for his sister back, even the **Arkenstone**. It was harrowing and scary and Dwalin had had to manhandle Thorin out to stop him from destroying the house._

Surthi was stood at Kíli’s other side, and she moved to wrap an arm around Kíli’s shoulders, but Fíli tugged his sister closer to him, not wanting someone else to take their mother’s place in his sister’s life so quickly. Kíli wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and weep in front of her mother’s tomb…but that would show her to be weak and she couldn’t do that; she was a _Durin_ and they didn’t show weakness, especially not in front of so many people.

Thorin’s deep rumble finally halted and four dwarves (Dwalin, Glóin and two others Kíli didn’t know) moved forward to lower the lid of the tomb down, and Kíli’s breath caught in her throat as the stone slammed together.

Many of the dwarves present left after that. They were only at the wake out of duty to their Royal Family, and because the Princess Dís had been such a caring person in the community.

Fíli wrapped a comforting arm around his sister and led her up to their uncle’s side.

“She is with our kin in the Halls now.” Thorin said, trying to comfort them both. Kíli sniffed snottily, rubbing her sleeve across her face. Fíli finally pulled her into a hug, turning her away from the tomb; one hand wrapped around her head and his other arm around her waist.

 _I won’t allow this to happen again…_ he vowed, his eyes fixed on his mother’s name engraved into the stone.

 

**_\--:--_ **

Dwalin watched Fíli cautiously: Thorin’s sister-son was surrounded by his fellow trainees, two practise swords in his hands, waiting for a strike.

“He’s doing well for one so young.” Balin commented with a puff of his pipe.

“Aye; too well.” Dwalin growled to his brother, “There’s no way Fíli should be able to hold off all of them! Yet he can…he’s training too hard.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! Yeh did it to remember!” the warrior took some vindictive pleasure at seeing the elder burn red, “ _We’ll_ have to keep an eye on him, Thorin’s got enough on his plate and Mahal knows where Kíli is half the time.”

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Kíli waltzed into the kitchen, still giggling from the high she’d gotten. Who knew that falling from the tops of trees was so fun! And there was plenty of catch, ten whole rabbits! Maybe she could convince her uncle to sell some…

“Kíli! Come in here.”

She jerked out of her daydreaming state at her uncle’s bark and tripped over her own feet.

Kíli stumbled into the main room, bow and rabbits still in hand. She was shocked to see that it wasn’t only Thorin, Fíli and Balin in the room.

“Who are these?” She asked her uncle, glancing between him and the strangers.

“Kíli, these are our kin: Dori, Nori and Ori – the sons of Kori.”

“Oh,” Kíli grinned lightly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

The one in the middle (his bright red hair was parted into three points) raised an eyebrow at her, while the youngest (she could tell by how he was standing and by how many layers he was wearing…who really wore that many in the summer?) hid behind his scarf. The oldest (at least he had the most grey hairs) stepped forward with a more solicitous smile on.

“It’s nice to meet you as well Princess… _isn’t it Nori?”_

The middle one jumped.

“O’ course, my lady.” He bowed sketchily.

“What brings you to Ered Luin?” Thorin asked gruffly.

“We…we came in hopes of a fresh start. The dwarves of the Ered Mithrin were kind to a point. But after the death of our mother, their patience was running rather thin…”

“Very well…” Thorin glanced over them, “I will make sure that there is a decent, _secure_ house ready for the three of you to settle in. Despite the… distance you are still our kin and we will not leave you to starve.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The eldest bowed again, “And…Ori was due to start his apprenticeship with the Master Scribe, but given to the haste of our departure…”

“The lad can learn from me – free of charge I insist.” Balin broke into the conversation, “Fíli and Kíli are both at the point where they only need a few lessons so I will the able to concentrate on teaching you, lad.”

The youngest – _Ori_ – blushed and mumbled a thank you. Dori (the eldest, obviously) looked thoroughly relieved while Nori looked shocked.

“You’re lucky.” Kíli piped up, “Mister Balin is the best teacher in the whole of Ered Luin.”

“When he isn’t trying to teach you Sindarin reflexive verbs.” Fíli added, a flash of his old cheek coming back. Balin sighed exasperatingly at them both and Ori giggled at them hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye Kíli could see her uncle smiling.

“Don’t you two have work to be doing?” Thorin asked wryly, nodding to the rabbits in Kíli’s hand.

“Oh right, come along Fee, you can help!”

“No, I have some state work to be doing.” Her brother deflected, turning not to look at her. Kíli’s shoulders sagged…but those rabbits wouldn’t skin themselves.

 

* * *

 

Fíli woke to sniffling and Thorin and Dwalin’s low, angry voices. He rolled out of bed and – only in his sleep pants – went down the stairs to the main room to see the fire burning low and his uncle and his uncle’s friend stood over someone by it.

“Whassa matter.” He asked, his words slurring together. Before either elder could speak, a small, shaking bundle managed to worm its way into his arms.

“Kíli.” He mumbled, “Kíli what’s wrong?”

“Fíli, take care of your sister, we have some vermin to deal with.” Thorin growled, glancing at Dwalin before they both left, it was like a threatening thunderstorm.

“What happened Kee?” he asked, cupping the back of her head. It was then he found out.

Kíli’s hair, which had fallen to her waist, was now _just_ brushing her shoulders.

“T-They cornered me. We were on our way back a-and they grabbed me a-and –”

Fíli growled,

“I’ll have them, I swear they’ll pay.” He vowed. Kíli smiled bitterly.

“I think they’re already going to nadad.”

 

* * *

****

 

Kíli pressed a damp cloth over her brother’s forehead, trying to cool the burning heat. He’d been like this for two weeks now, after collapsing at his desk in the library.

“Kíli, you know there is nothing you can do for him.” Thorin pointed out, “He has to fight this off himself.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” she argued, not looking up from Fíli’s shaking form, “What if I lose him too?”

Thorin sighed, before pulling her to him by the upper arm.

“Trust in your brother, sweet niece,” He mumbled, locking his arms around her struggling form, “Trust in him as he would trust in you.”

“I’m scared Uncle, I’m scared I’m going t’ lose him to.” Kíli ceased her squirming to cling to Thorin, face buried against his chest.

“We won’t lose him sweet niece, your brother is strong.”

It took many more sleepless nights on Kíli’s part – _so much_ worrying for everyone else, wondering whether Kíli would be lost as well – but eventually Fíli woke up, confused and worrying himself.

“Kíli! What’s wrong?” He asked, struggling to sit up, “You’re crying!”

Kíli sniffled before throwing her arms around him

“Never do that again.” She poked him in the side fiercely, “You drive yourself to the brink of exhaustion and death again and I’ll never forgive you!”

Fíli could do nothing except look at Thorin – shocked – over Kíli’s shoulder. When he was met by a stony face, Fíli knew he’d been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her hair, “To both of you, I’m sorry.”

Thorin sighed sadly, moving over to hug them both, like he had when they were terrified dwarflings during a thunder storm.

“You are safe now, both of you are safe now.” He assured both them and himself, they were all safe from the madness that loomed over them still.

For now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was a warm day for the middle of autumn, and the rumours of a white hind had drawn those of Durin’s line into the forest surrounding the settlement in the hopes of securing a plentiful supply of meat for them all.

Kíli rolled her shoulders back, readjusting her quiver and grinning wanly at her brother.

“Whose idea was it that we came with them?”

“Uncle’s,” Fíli replied absently, “He…he thinks we’re old enough.”

Kíli looked at him properly. Fíli was looking pale again.

“Well, it’ll be good for you to get out nadad. You’ve been spending too much time at your books.” She chirped, smiling when he laughed properly.

“And you too little, niece.” Their uncle’s voice rumbled from the head of the party. Kíli flushed as the rest chuckled. Fíli moved to put his hand on her shoulder but Kíli jumped up onto a tree stump and spun.

“Make sure you don’t get us lost Uncle.” She called, “I got told you couldn’t find your way back from the tavern last night…”

Dwalin snorted, Glóin shook his head and Thorin looked behind to cast Kíli an amused look. The lass smirked.

Fíli grinned at her spunk, but he knew better than to join in…an heir couldn’t mock his king…the blonde sighed and reached for a knife to twirl in his hands.

Thorin halted the group several minutes later, looking around cautiously.

“We’re being watched.” He hissed to Dwalin, who signed to the rest quickly. Fíli grabbed Kíli’s arm and swung her round to the edge of the group.

“Kee, when I say, run.”

“Why-”

“Just do it.”

There were a few tense minutes, before a pack of wargs with five orcs burst through the foliage.

Dwalin was – as always – the first to react, Grasper sailing through the air to separate a warg’s head from the rest of his body.

That spurred the rest into action: Thorin moved like a fierce northern wind, Deathless only glinting in the light; Glóin was like a landslide, brutal in his slaughter.

Fíli shoved Kíli over a fallen tree trunk, “Run – get back home!”

“What about you?!” she yelled back

“I’ll be fine – just go!” With that, Fíli turned, pulling out one of his swords and took down one of the wargs smoothly.

Kíli crouched down behind log, watching her brother closely. Fíli moved so fluidly, with all the skill and grace of a mountain lion. He looked like a true king and Kíli had never felt more inadequate in her life.

Suddenly – a warg streaked in from the corner of her eye straight for Fíli!

By now it was simply mechanical; Kíli pulled an arrow out of her quiver and brought it up to her cheek. A heartbeat passed before she released the arrow.

It zoomed through the air, barely visible in chaos, and buried itself into the warg’s eye. Kíli grinned victoriously and clambered up onto the log to improve her aim.

Well, that had been the plan. She’d managed to fire three more arrows before there was just this agonising pain digging into her back and pulling _down_. She fell forward with a cry, hitting the ground with a _thump_ and the warg moved on.

Unfortunately, the orc that had been riding it did not.

It stood in front of her, grinning manically, the sight of miss-mashed amour and a rusted sword searing onto her memory. She rolled away from the log and scrambled to her feet; drawing the hunting knife her mother had given her, her arrows scattered to the five winds.

The orc lunged forward. Kíli ducked

It lunged forward again. Kíli ducked again.

The third time it lunged, Kíli swung the knife up and managed to ( _luckily, **unbelievably**_ ) stab the orc in the throat.

Blood poured from the wound, splashing down her arm and the orc slumped down. Although Kíli _was_ stronger than most other darrowdams her age, she could only support so much and that _definitely_ didn’t include an orc. Her knees buckled and she fell backwards, the dead orc crashing on top of her.

The skirmish was finished pretty quickly. Fíli began to clean one of his swords, black blood giving way to bright steel while Glóin and Dwalin began to pile up the corpses.

“Fíli, where’s your sister?” Thorin’s bark came quickly

“I sent her…back…” Fíli’s sure answer trailed off, seeing his uncle holding the tattered remains of Kíli’s quiver, “Kíli!” he hollered, looking around frantically. His heart was hammering only to _freeze_ when he saw one of Kíli’s boots under an orc corpse.

“Kíli!” He didn’t even register moving, just pulling the corpse away to see his little sister grinning impishly.

“That was…new.” She said. A fierce anger overcame him and he pulled her up to and gripped her shoulders tight.

“I _told you_ to go back home!” He practically roared, the others all paused in their tracks. Nobody had seen Fíli this enraged… _ever_. Kíli paled as he shook her fiercely.

“A warg…it-it was going for you and –”

“You shouldn’t have risked something like that! I could have handled it! Why do you never listen when your life could be at stake?”

“Fee…”

“I don’t want to listen –”

“Fíli.” Thorin cut through his nephew’s anger, like ice cutting through fire, “You’re sister is injured. We have to get her back to Óin before she bleeds too much.”

Fíli blinked slowly, pulling his hands away from Kíli’s shoulders to gape in horror at the sight of blood coating his left hand.

 

**_-:-_ **

 

“Set her down on the table – gently! – and wash her back off.” Óin instructed, moving to hold a needle over a candle flame. Dwalin did as he was told, stepping back to let Óin’s assistant (some lass whose name he could never remember) remove Kíli shirt and begin to clean her back.

“Honestly – you, your brother and your uncle always seem to be getting into some unfortunate predicament lately don’t you?” Óin huffed, bustling over and waving the girl off. Kíli hissed as he jabbed the (now red hot) needle through the broken skin.

“Mahal blessed.” Dwalin gasped, shaking his head at the damage done to the girl’s back.

“As helpful as always, cousin.” Óin grumbled, pulling the thread tight, bringing the skin back together, before repeating the process, “Go to Thorin and Fíli, and tell them she’ll be fine; just baring some new scars.”

“So I suppose learning to forge is out of the question then?” Kíli asked as jovially as she could after Dwalin left. Óin sighed deeply.

“I’d’ve advised you against it anyway lass. The forge isn’t meant for one as slender as you.”

Kíli frowned, letting out another sharp hiss.

“So what? Am I doomed to be a disappointment forever then?” she groused.

“Who’s been calling you a disappointment, lass?” Óin asked. He didn’t often talk to patients like this, but with Kíli it was the best way to distract her from the pain, he’d learnt that when she’d burnt her forearm trying to cook for the first time.

“Everyone, like the ones who cut my hair…”The girl mumbled, burying her face into the crook of her elbow, “Just thought that if I worked in a forge or something they’d leave me alone.”

Óin sighed. He’d have to have a word with Thorin.

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

“Yeh lucky they’re not deeper; coulda paralysed her.” Dwalin groused around his pipe.

“Yes thank you brother.” Balin sighed, _of_ _course_ noticing how Fíli flinched at the mere thought, “She’ll be fine lad; it’d take more than a warg to down your sister. She’s a Durin through and through.”

“Aye.” Thorin agreed from his place by the fire. Fíli twisted his fingers together. It was _his_ fault she was hurt, there was no denying it.

The door to the house creaked open and the three males all looked as one to see Kíli slink in, Óin right behind her.

“Fíli!” she chirped, her eyes lighting up. The elder sibling looked at her sadly before getting up and leaving the room.

“Your arrows are at the back door Kíli, you should clean them before dinner.” Thorin told her stiffly before her face could fall.

“…Yes Uncle.”

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Kíli, her shirt sleeves dripping with water, stood outside her and Fíli’s bedroom door, as she had been for the last ten minutes.

…This was ridiculous! She wasn’t _scared_ of _Fíli_! Outside of the training ring he was the least scary person Kíli knew…

With that thought in mind, Kíli squared her shoulders and pushed the door open.

Her brother was sat on their bed, twisting a knife in his hands, posture slumped and he didn’t turn to look at her. Instantly she felt a lot less brave.

“Fee?” she asked softly, creeping closer to the bed. Chancing her luck, she scrambled up onto the bed and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” She began, her voice barely more than a whisper, “I didn’t mean to go against what you said, I-I just wanted to h-help…a-and Uncle said that you mightn’t have survived without me there and I know that’s a really bad excuse and I’m so _so_ sorry Fee but I can’t regret it as much as I probably should cause-”

“Kíli.”

Her incessant rambling cut off, Kíli looked up at her brother and a horrible surge of guilt rioted through her body at the sight of his blue eyes ( _his **beautiful** blue eyes_ ) looking bloodshot and so _haunted_ and the surrounding skin all puffy and red.  

“Kíli, when I saw you under that orc, I thought you were gone, that I’d lost you, that I’d failed. I can’t…I can’t _breathe_ right without you and…I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”

Kíli whimpered _‘I’m sorry’_ again and felt a few tears run down her face as Fíli kissed her forehead before pressing his own forehead to hers.

“Never again,” He pleaded hoarsely, “Never try to act like such a hero again _please_.”

“I won’t,” She agreed, “I promise.”

 

_End of Part Two_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nadad - brother
> 
> Cutting a dwarf's hair without permission is a big no-no…well in the fanon anyway.
> 
> Ages so far! Just to save some confusion:
> 
> Part One:  
> • 5 and 0  
> • 25 and 20  
> • 32 and 27  
> • 36 and 31  
> • 47 and 42
> 
> Part Two:  
> • 55 and 50  
> • 58 and 53  
> • 60 and 54  
> • 60 and 55


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seperation is necessary, according to Thorin, but everyone else can see the suffering...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bolded italic is extended Khuzdul

Kíli scowled into her book.

“Come now lass, this is important.” Balin reproached, but he was sympathetic. He too had once known the feeling of being – as Kíli saw it – held back for no reason. Surthi chuckled however, from her place by their stove.

“Now, what do we rely on the dwarves of the Iron Hills for?” he asked gently, tapping the desk to get her attention. The girl sighed.

“For military help during campaigns and food supplies during the harsher winters.” She recited, looking up at the ceiling.

“Very good.” The elder beamed from behind his beard as he shuffled the papers that covered the table, looking for the next lot of questions.

“Why do I even have to learn this anyway?” Kíli whined for what was probably the hundredth time.

“When your brother is King he will need your help, khahith,” Surthi told her calmly, for now ignoring Balin’s raised eyebrow – the stew was nearly complete and (quite frankly) smelled _divine_.

“Won’t he have a queen for that?” Kíli asked a hint of sarcasm in her voice. People were attracted to Fíli like flies were attracted to honey, no matter whether or not he showed any interest back.

“You will always be by your brother’s side Princess, no matter any future events.” Balin smiled warmly at her, patting her hand, “But tell me, what do we give the Iron Hill dwarves in return?”

Kíli groaned loudly.

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

“Tha’ Nori,” Dwalin growled, “He disappears for months and comes back with Mahal knows what in his pockets. I’d follow him and find out. We could put –”

“Dwalin.” Balin snapped finally, “We promised the Brothers Ri _safety_. You threatening to lock their brother up doesn’t really inspire their confidence in us does it?”

Dwalin grumbled, tearing at his bread as though it was Nori himself. Fíli and Kíli exchanged exasperated looks across the table.

“Fíli,” Thorin spoke up, pausing to glance at Balin, “Dáin has sent word that he is sending some delegates to Bree to…well…meet you.”

“Why?” the blonde asked, looking up from his food. Dwalin snorted.

“As honourable as Dáin might be – you’re still cheating him out of a throne and a kingdom lad! Clearly he wants to see what you can do!”

“So…what do I have to do?” Fíli questioned. Thorin looked at him from the head of the table.

“Me, you and Balin will go to Bree in three months time. You shall have to show some of your work from the forge, your warcraft and no doubt they will want to test your historical knowledge and your Khuzdul.”

“And how well you know statecraft and the political system, even though that will no doubt be your consort’s area of ruling should you take one.” Balin added.

“Can I come?” Kíli asked, “I’d like to see Bree and the Dunland.”

“No Kíli, you are remaining here as regent with Glóin and Surthi, consider it a lesson, if you will.”

Kíli pursed her lips momentarily (and Fíli noticed suddenly how full they looked) but accepted her fate.

“Uncle, wouldn’t Dáin wished to meet my sister as well?” Fíli asked, “Even if she isn’t directly in line to the throne?”

“No, and even if he did Kíli would still be staying in Ered Luin.” The king rumbled, “Do not try and change my mind nephew.”

Fíli clenched his jaw, but Kíli kicked his shin to stop him from responding.

After dinner, Fíli and Kíli were in their room, trying to make a list for all the things the elder sibling would need for his trip.

“You could make some daggers, maybe a sword. Make something pretty too – for Dáin’s wife – like a circlet for something. And…”

“Kíli, doesn’t it bother you that you’re not coming with us?” Fíli asked, tucking her hair (which was still too short) behind her ear.

“Of course…” the brunet sighed, “But Uncle has his reasons and I’m too young to follow you at a distance…and my back’s not fully healed still.”

“Uncle had the idea of the pair of us staying in Bree for a few years afterwards, earning money. I mean, he’s had it for a while now but…” Fíli admitted, watching as she stiffened.

“I can live with that…”she assured him quietly, “It was going to happen anyway, we can’t stay this way forever.”

“We can do,” Fíli blurted out quickly, “Uncle can’t force us to separate forever.”

The pair grinned, trying to forget the inevitable.

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Fíli stood as the three lords entered the room. They were all heavily decorated, especially compared to him. Thorin and Balin still had clothes from Erebor, while all Fíli had was the clothes he wore everyday. It wouldn’t be so bad: proving himself for a few months, two years _at least_ working in different forges before he was back with Kíli, where he belonged.

“ ** _So this is the young princeling._** ” One of them, whose grey beard reached his belt, commented, looking Fíli up and down.

“ ** _My lords._** ” He bowed just so slightly to them, “ ** _I am honoured that the Lord Dáin wishes to know me._** ”

“ ** _Your Khuzdul is good, young one._** ” The lord with a black beard praised him, “ ** _Who is your tutor?_** ”

“ ** _The Lord Balin, one of Erebor’s greatest councilors, warriors and scribes._** ”

“ ** _Yes, the Lord Dáin praised him thoroughly_**.”

Fíli had the feeling that this was going to take longer than anticipated.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kíli laughed as she was dragged into the sparring ring.

“Come on lass, if you insist on fighting you better learn how to fight above your weight!” Dwalin bellowed out, stopping all activity in the training grounds.

“I would but I don’t think I have a decent enough sword to fight against you Mister Dwalin.” She pointed out. All she had always had was one of her brother’s, but he’d been gone for five years now.

“Aye; that you didn’t.” With a – remarkably good – flourish Dwalin revealed a narrow, double edged sword to her.

“You want to fight – you’ll need a proper weapon tha’ bow’s only so good!” the warrior told her gruffly, noting her good grip with pride, “The balance alright?” At her nod, he exclaimed, “Alright, a few practice drills and then you can go back to your beloved arrows!”

Kíli laughed again, readying her sword while Dwalin grabbed one of the spare ones. The elder dwarf was never subtle and with a great cry swung it over his head. Kíli blocked it with ease and parried back with a quick swing to Dwalin’s side. He moved further to the right to dodge it and swung his arm again, aiming for the Princess’ neck. She had to duck so the sword flew over her and lunged forward, sword first. There was a harsh grating sound as the swords slid against each other, slowing them both down but it also meant that Kíli’s sword didn’t pierce Dwalin’s skin.

“Good lass, very good.”

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Fíli was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily by the time he had finished the fight, his opponent weaponless and at his feet for the third time that day. The three lords nodded to each other before the grey beard – _Thráin_ apparently, after Fíli’s grandfather – stood to address him.

“ ** _You are a fine fighter young prince, should war come to your people I’m sure you will lead the admirably._** ”

“ ** _Thank…thank you, my lord_**.” The blonde managed to get out around his labored breaths.

“ ** _Tomorrow, you will be allowed a break and then the next day we shall see whether you know anything about statecraft!_** ”

Fíli wanted to cry! How along until he was allowed to go back home? He was almost forgetting what it looked like – what his own sister looked like! Ten long years in Bree, being constantly assessed and judged on how he acted. Kíli had never cared if he’d induced a scrap, or swore too much or ate with his mouth open… but the darrowdams he’d met seemed to dislike the way he breathed!

“ ** _Of course my lords._** ”

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Kíli had finally had enough; she slammed her fist against the table – silencing the lords opposite her.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” She growled, “The miners are asking for sufficient supplies to re-enforce their homes for the coming winter. We have plenty of suitable stones and no doubt more will be available with all the current mining…and trade with the men in nearby towns can give us a supply of beams and straw if necessary.”

“My lady, you are too young to understand, if we give the miners what they are asking _now_ , they might ask for too much in the future.” One lord said, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“But there’s no proof to say that they will! Have they ever before? The Ur family has three dwarflings under their roof and a fourth soon to arrive! Would you possibly damn our own race further by subjecting them to a poorly built house which lets in fierce winds?”

The lord paled,

“Of course not my lady, but–”

“Then set up a link to the closest town of men and a system to organize suitable rocks for building from the rubble!” Kíli sighed, “I think we’re done for today, my lords.”

There was a murmur of agreement from them all, so Kíli stood and left swiftly, stretching her back tiredly.

“I didn’t know that you knew the Ur family.” Surthi commented after she caught up.

“Bifur and Bofur made me and Fíli toys when we were younger. And Nori introduced me to them more recently.” Kíli tried not to think on _how_ that had happened, but she definitely hadn’t looked Bofur or Nori in the eye for a while afterwards.

“Your uncle would be proud of you, for doing that, as would your brother.” The elder darrowdam assured Kíli.

“When are they coming back?” the dark haired one asked suddenly, “Whenever I get a letter they’re really vague, and Fíli’s always too exhausted to write that much – they’re draining him!”

“I wouldn’t worry khahith, they know what they’re doing.” Surthi pulled the girl close to her side; “Dwalin will be going out to meet them soon, he can take Fíli your present. He’ll love it; it’s the perfect gift for someone’s coming of age…”

Kíli sighed in acceptance. _Too young,_ she reminded her; _you’re too young to go to him_.

But of how she _wanted to_. She wanted to run to Bree and into her brother’s arms… _where had that come from?_

At any rate, the miners had gotten the supplies they needed…much to Bifur, Bofur and Bombur’s relief…and if a long knife bearing no visible insignia had appeared on Kíli’s bed one night, no one needed to know…

**_\--:--_ **

 

Fíli pounded the hot metal fiercely. His uncle wasn’t that far away from him, but it was impossible to talk because of the amount of orders they’d gotten recently. It was a lesson, he’d been told, it was essential that he realized that being a king wasn’t a right but a responsibility and he had to earn the respect of his people. So Fíli was working, just like any of them would…

“Uncle,” he couldn’t help but pester during their lunch break, “When we going home?”

“How long have we been gone?” Thorin asked absently.

“Nineteen years…”the younger murmured, “Kíli’s goin’ t’ be of age soon, I don’t want to miss that.”

Thorin stiffened at the reminder. Had time really gone that quickly?

“We’ll be going back soon, maybe in a month or so.” The king couldn’t let his nephew go mad with longing; that was too cruel, especially because he was feeling it himself.

“Lads!” Dwalin cried out, “Three more orders!”

“When for?”

“Next month. One of them’s a really big order from the Shire though, might take us a long while.”

 

* * *

****

 

Kíli stepped in front of the mirror in nothing but her small clothes. She’d been of age for a year now. She could feel the steady, secondary heartbeat pulsing through her veins, the one that told her that _her One_ was alive and whole. Hopefully whole at any rate.

But would he want her? She wasn’t pretty, not really. True her hips had widened and her breasts had grown so much that she needed binding to keep them in place and she _was_ short (hopefully still shorter than Fíli)…but she had no proper hair on her face, just a few curls brushing around her ears, and she was still too slim despite the amount she ate…

Kíli pulled out one of her mother’s old dresses. It was dark blue with silver stitching around the low, square neckline. Dís had said that it was from Erebor, which made it very, _very_ precious. After hesitating slightly, Kíli pulled the dress over her head and tugged it into submission. It slipped off her shoulders even as she started to lace it up at the back and sides.

When she was finished, the dress was clinging to her torso tightly but from there hung down to her ankles, lifeless. The shoulders of the dress (which created the square shape) slumped down her arms, making the material bunch up and look…less than pleasant.

Sighing, Kíli started to undo the laces again. Why should she kid herself?

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

Fíli led the pony through the settlement; trying to ignore how the heartbeat was increasing the closer he got to his home. It couldn’t mean anything could it? Maybe there was someone visiting…

But when the door opened, he could only see two figures.

“Fíli!” A feminine voice ( _how long had it been since he’d heard that?_ ) broke the nights’ quiet as the blonde and his uncle dismounted.

“Fíli! Nadad!” she cried out, stumbling forward, assuming the beat was just because her brother was _back_.

Kíli slotted into his arms as easily as she did before he’d left, though Fíli could feel her womanlier figure underneath her tunic as he spun around, breathing in her scent for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Get inside, both of you, we have things to discuss.” Thorin grunted by way of greeting.

The pair ignored him though.

“You’ve grown.” Fíli mumbled, running his figures along her jaw and through her hair. He wanted to kiss her, to love her…but…Kíli giggled,

“You have too.” She tugged one of his moustache braids.

“Fíli, Kíli, hurry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review :D
> 
> ~~edited on seventh of october two thousand and fourteen~~


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bicker, they pine, they apologise and Fíli becomes jealous of an elf...

_Part Four_

 

Fíli watched sullenly as Kíli stuffed everything into her pack.

“D’you think I’ll need more than one whetstone Fee?” she asked turning to face him, the stone in hand. The blonde tried to change his expression but…

“What’s the matter?” she moved closer to him, making the thrumming heartbeat intensify for both of them, “Fee – talk to me.”

Fíli shuffled his feet, resisting the urge to tug on one of his braids.

“I…I don’t want you to come with us.”

Faltering, Kíli frowned at him and Fíli saw the anger sparkle in her eye.

“Why not? I’m as good a fighter as any of you – Uncle says so himself!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“So what, I’m supposed to stay here while you go and get yourself killed?” she shouted. The elder grabbed her wrist and pulled her close enough so their toes were touching and he rested his forehead against her, pushing down the instinct to kiss her.

“I _can’t_ lose you Kee,” he whispered, “I just…I _can’t_.” _I’d never forgive myself._

“And I can’t lose you.” He felt her hands move to his shoulders, “I don’t trust anyone else to watch over you.” _Because you’re mine_.

The pair remained silent for a moment.

“Promise me you’ll do as I say.”

“Fíli-”

“Promise me Kíli.”

He felt a tugging at one of his braids and saw Kíli run her thumb over one of the beads.

“I promise nadad.”

Fíli smiled brilliantly, but even an idiot would still be able to see the shadows in his eyes.

“I think you should pack another one Kee – I don’t want you using mine all the time.”

 

 

* * *

****

   
Kíli giggled ecstatically as her brother heaved her into the bed that their would-be burglar had given her – because she was a _lady_. Even though she wasn’t. Not _now_ , at any rate. Outside of Ered Luin she was just Kíli, daughter of Dís. And she liked that.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink namad.” Fíli chuckled, tugging her boots off quickly before attending to his own. Kíli snorted.

“I’m _fine_ , just…happy I suppose. I thought I’d never leave Ered Luin.” She rolled onto her side, watching as her brother divested himself of the rest of his knives and his jacket, “Do you like your jacket? I never got the chance to ask.”

Fíli smiled softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reached to stroke her hair.

“It’s wonderful namadith, thank you.”

Kíli hummed.

“I got Dori to help sow it all together…and Dwalin skinned the lion…but I drew the designs and came up with the idea!” she reached and tugged at his jerkin, “C’mon, sleep now.”

Fíli blinked. Was she serious? He could feel the heat rising in his ears.

“I s-should go and join Un- _Thorin_ and Balin Kee…”

“They’ll be fine nadad…just please.” Kíli looked up at him from under her eyelashes, not being purposely seductive but having the same effect on him. Fíli swallowed.

“All…alright.”

Slowly, the blonde moved himself so they were both side by side on the bed and Kíli could rest her head on his chest. The brunette sighed happily, drifting off to sleep easier than she had for the past twenty years. Fíli, however, wasn’t so lucky.

Why Kíli? Why his sweet, innocent sister? She didn’t deserve this - especially after he’d learnt what she’d done while he had been gone. Kíli needed someone who could give her what she deserved, not her prince in exile brother who could never do what she had…she needed someone who could truly appreciate the way her eyes glowed in the right light, who noticed how soft her hair was, who…

But every time he tried to imagine his sister with some other dwarf, Fíli’s heart ached and he was filled with an uncontrollable rage. He loved her, loved her so fiercely he couldn’t live without her.

_I can’t breathe right without you._ It’d been two decades since he’d said those words, yet now they seemed horribly accurate.

But did she feel the same?

He hoped so. He _needed_ her to; he’d go mad if she didn’t.

 

 

* * *

 

  
The company had made it from the Shire in quick time, Nori mused, even if the hobbit (‘ ** _Bilbo_** _Nori how many more times?’_ Bofur had reprimanded him) had joined them late. It hadn’t been too long before they’d reached the other side of Bree – despite Thorin having insisted they go _around_ the town instead of through it.

“Shame we couldn’t go through though eh Fíli? I’m sure there’d be plenty of lasses willing enough to see you again!” The idiot captain that was Dwalin son of Fundin chortled from the front of the line, laughing deeply when he saw how red the prince had gone.

Nobody noticed how Kíli had stiffened though, how her eyes had flew to her brother. Well, nobody except Nori who’d sent Bofur in his place to talk to the lass when they stopped for camp.

The hatted dwarf offered his pipe, but Kíli shook her head.

“Y’know, when me and Nori first met, he acted like I didn’t even exist.” Bofur began, “It hurt in ways I can’t even describe. _‘He’s me One’_ I thought _‘why’s he doin’ this to me?’_ ”

Kíli scuffed her boot against the ground.

“But one day he came to the workshop. Bifur weren’t there luckily. I accused him of being unfaithful, which was stupid – we’d only just met. But he didn’t deny it. Instead he said he was being selfish, because he was trying to keep me safe and the only way he could do that was by ignoring me.” Bofur smirked, remembering the uncharacteristically earnest look on Nori’s face.

“But that didn’t work.” Kíli pointed out, “Remember?”

“Aye and I’m proud of that.” Bofur grinned, “All I’m saying is that it might take a little bit of time lass, but don’t let anything in the past ruin the future.”

“How do you know he’ll even want me?” The question seemed to have been rung out of somewhere deep within the lass, “I’m not pretty, not like the girls in Bree…”

“If he’s truly yeh One, he won’t care about that.” Bofur patted her hand gently

 

 

* * *

 

   
While Thorin searched the troll’s cave, Balin directed the apology of two dwarves to their shaken burglar.

“We’re sorry Master Baggins.” Fíli said slowly.

“We didn’t mean to throw you into danger unarmed.” Kíli added, shuffling her feet slightly. Bilbo smiled at the pair as best he could.

“Its fine, my own fault I suppose.” The hobbit chuckled, “Off you go, both of you.”

They both beamed at him before shooting off.

“You shouldn’t have let them off so easily lad.” Balin told him, “They need a firm hand sometimes.”

Bilbo snorted.

“They weren’t to know I didn’t have a weapon, I am supposed to be the Company’s burglar after all.”

As soon as they were out of Balin’s hearing, Fíli turned to his sister and started to examine her neck, asking if it hurt.

“It’s fine Fee, honest.” Kíli pushed his hands away

“Something’s coming!” Dori’s voice sounded out. Fíli reached for his swords while Kíli pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it quickly.

It had never been so tense until _another_ wizard burst through the foliage.

“Radagast!” Gandalf exclaimed, “Radagast the Brown.”

Everyone huffed in a mixture of relief and annoyance.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kíli was being to understand why her uncle disliked elves so much. They didn’t have any decent food, everywhere stank of flowers, and they kept thinking she was a _boy_ and it was impossible to tell them apart! Now she apparently had an elf for a suitor!

But at least she wasn’t shaking any more. The orcs and wargs had scared her more than she let on, bringing back memories of fear and pain. Fíli had hugged her tightly before what was technically dinner, murmuring reassurances into her ear and hair, running his hands along her back – her scars. Kíli had lost herself in the warmth her brother provided and the thrumming heartbeat they created together.

Currently, however, she was having a bath.

The others had decided to make use of the fountain (if only to annoy the elves), but it wasn’t really appropriate for her to join them. So here she was, in some arty, willowy bathhouse on her own, trying to detangle her hair.

“Kíli?” A hesitant voice asked. She flicked her head up, sending the hair that had fallen in front of her face fling backwards.

“F-Fee!” She exclaimed. Her brother was stood in the doorway, only his boots, undershirt and breeches one with his hair unbraided, “What’s the matter?” Tilting her head to the side, Kíli suddenly felt a bit mischievous, “There’s plenty of room if you want to join me…”

Fíli’s jaw dropped, his eyes popped out and the tips of his ears turned red.

“T-That won’t be necessary namadith, I’m quite clean a-as you can see.” He mentally smacked himself for stuttering, “I just wanted you to braid my hair for me again.”

“Oh, okay just give me a minute.” Kíli dunked herself quickly under the water to wash off any remaining soap before pulling herself out of the bath and grabbing a towel. When she turned back to her brother; Fíli had turned around to face the door and his ears were _glowing_.

“H-Has that elf come here to talk to you?” He asked as she began to dress, his voice sounding decidedly rough.

“No…I think you and Un…you and _Thorin_ glaring at him did the trick.” Kíli laughed, she squeezed the last of the water in her hair out over the bath and then joined her brother at the door, “Shall we?”

The siblings walked down the hallway, which was thankfully devoid of elves.

“Thorin wants me to join him, Balin and the hobbit when they meet with Lord Elrond tonight.”

“I suppose you have a cover story then?”

“Of course, Balin’s not an idiot.” 

 

 

* * *

 

  
Fíli had been a part of boring meetings before now (his time in Bree springing to mind), but _nothing_ had prepared him for Lord Elrond.

The elf (or, half-elf if you wanted to be technical) had _chatted_ with Gandalf for at least half an hour before paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

“Pray tell, why is he here?” Elrond asked, raising an eyebrow at Fíli.

“As an apprentice scribe gaining his mastery, this is a sort of test for him.” Balin interrupted quickly, shooting Fíli’s uncle a look.

While the master of the Last Homely House accepted the claim, Gandalf looked suspicious and the hobbit looked confused.

The map had piqued the elf’s interest, but Fíli had to repress a growl at Gandalf’s brushing off of its significance. Just because _he_ saw it as an _experiment_ didn’t mean it _was_ one.

Fíli had heard of moon runes before. They were used in the…First Age more often, he’d thought. But the practise hadn’t been lost until recently, after the fall of Erebor.

The door would open on Durin’s Day…of course it would. The ‘last light’ part was confusing though…did they mean the sun or the moon?

Soon enough he was excused to re-join the Company along with the hobbit. The hobbit – _Bilbo,_ he insisted – chatted about how ingenious the moon runes were, which made Fíli smile, glad that the hobbit was beginning to take an interest in something dwarven (it might make Thorin a bit less hostile towards him in the end, was Fíli reasoning).

The Company was in fine form when they arrived, chatting around a fire (Bilbo flustered over the wreck, of course) and finally having some meat.

Kíli, however, was huddled in a corner with their things, examining something .

“What have you got there namadith?” the blonde asked, collapsing against their bags.

“A gift from her elvish admirer.” Dwalin called over, practically mocking. Fíli’s heart was seized with fear.

“Let me see.” He growled, wrestling with his anger. _Kíli_ didn’t deserve it.

“They’re just arrows Fee.” The younger muttered.

“It doesn’t matter let me see.” He snatched the one out of her hands. The shaft was made out of a lighter wood than the ones Kíli usually used. The fletching was still yellow – clearly the elf noticed some things. The arrowheads, however, were intricate. They looked like _silver_ and were covered in Sindarin blessings, which hoped for a true aim when she used them. Kíli snatched it back and shoved it away.

“Honestly Fee, they’re just arrows! It doesn’t mean I’m going to run off after an elf!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

Those words stayed with Fíli long after Thorin and Balin came back and called for lights out. It was normal to lavish your intended with gifts. And granted, they weren’t engaged as such, they were each other’s _One_. And now this elf had upstaged him already!

Maybe Kíli should run away with him, at least then she’d have someone who could show he cared about her without making a fool of himself…

 

_End of Part Four_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extra scene with Thorin, Bilbo and the Two Meddlers does happen!  
> Updates for all might be even slower now, because I have to prepare for exams...


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far over, the Misty Mountains Cold...

_Part Five_

 

Bilbo Baggins had never expected his smial to be overrun with thirteen dwarves and a wizard. Also, he’d never expected to be on an adventure with said dwarves and wizard. But, here he was…and if Lobelia Sackville-Baggins ( _why_ his cousin Otho had married her he had no idea) asked: no, it was not because the leader (for all his glowering and brooding) had a voice like warm honey and eyes the same colour as a mid-summer afternoon. It was because…well…it was an adventure!

Even if said adventure hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, what with trolls and orcs and whatnot. But he’d met the elves so it was worth it…if one ignored how he seemed to be constantly on the edge of the group.

Bofur had kindly explained that the majority of the group was related in some way. Balin and Dwalin (brothers) were first cousins to Óin and Glóin (also brothers) and they were all second cousins to Thorin. Dori, Nori and Ori (again, brothers) were kin to Thorin (in some complicated way that involved some scandal or other) and Nori and Bofur were… _acquainted_ , let’s say. Bofur and Bombur were brothers as well and Bifur was their cousin, but they weren’t related to Thorin. Fíli and Kíli were brother and sister. Bilbo guessed they were also related to Thorin, _especially_ considering Bofur was purposefully hazy about them, and that Fíli had been with them when they were talking with Lord Elrond. 

However, the pair seemed to be too close to _just_ be siblings. The hobbit saw how Fíli always made sure his sister was warm enough the further in the Misty Mountains the Company got (his touch lingering at certain places) and often gave up his own blankets for her. And he saw how Kíli braided his hair at every opportunity (taking extra care and more often than not just running her fingers through the golden mess) and slipped some of her own meals into his when he wasn’t looking…only for Fíli to slip it back into hers when _she_ wasn’t looking.

Bilbo wasn’t critical of or disgusted by it. Yvanna’s Grace, everyone in the Shire was related twice – maybe even _thrice_ – over, and if they were truly happy he (an outsider) shouldn’t try to stop that. If they had realised it that was, and he hadn’t seen any proof of that…they hadn’t even kissed on the lips once! Maybe it was different for dwarves, but Bofur and Nori hadn’t shown any restraint so far…

“Kíli,” Bilbo began one night, “Is what Glóin says true?”

“That depends on what Glóin’s been sayin’. If it’s about me probably not…” the dwarf lass mumbled, which made Bilbo chuckle slightly.

“About how dwarves _love_.” He clarified, “He says you all have a…a One, I think.”

“Aye,” Kíli confirmed, “It’s said that Mahal has made a partner for everyone. The only problem is they might not be alive…or born when you are, so you might be too old or too young for your One, _or_ you might not even meet them until you’re in the Halls. Glóin and Bombur have both found their Ones and have married them…and Bofur and Nori have at least _found_ each other…”

Bilbo hummed. That explained... _certain incidents_ in Rivendell then.

“Is there anything else?” the hobbit continued.

“Well…they say that dwarves love fiercely, like the forges…and they’ll never betray you or harm you knowingly…and they’ll always protect you and keep you safe…all the clichés” Here Kíli’s gaze flickered to her brother. Fíli would just protect her anyway right? Because he was her brother and that’s what a brother _did_ …regardless if there were (possibly) other feelings involved.

“Don’t hobbits have anything like that?”

 

* * *

 

The mountainside was breaking apart.

Mountainsides weren’t supposed to break apart! Fíli clung to it, his eyes screwed up against the wind and rain.

“Kíli – grab my hand!” he yelled over the storm. His sister tried to reach, but just as their fingertips brushed the rock had split too wide. Fíli gasped in pain, it was worse than he’d ever imagined, and especially since he could see the terrified expression his sister wore as well.

Someone pulled him back from the cliff edge and also – inadvertently – pulled him out of his thoughts. They didn’t need a lovesick boy right now, but the crown prince he was supposed to be. He twisted to see who he was with. Bofur, Bombur, Ori, Dwalin and Bilbo were all clinging onto the rock face…well Bofur also had a hand on Bombur’s arm and Dwalin seemed to be protecting both Ori and Bilbo. There wasn’t much else they could do. While the thunderstorm raged around them, Fíli continuously glanced back at the others, only catching glimpses of Balin’s white hair and Thorin’s silvery furs. Were the rest okay?

It seemed to last forever, but all too suddenly the stone giant they were on shuddered and started to collapse. The mountainside was rushing towards them.

“When I say,” Fíli yelled against the howling winds, “jump!”

The seconds ticked by too slowly before he yelled the word, but from what he could see, they all made it to the ledge, the majority of them landing in a large pile.

Thorin burst around the corner yelling Fíli’s name. His uncle had never looked so relieved to see him, Fíli reflected as he helped Bombur up. Rescuing the hobbit was a bit forward on Thorin’s part as well, but it _was_ counterbalance by his cruel words. But now they had a melancholy burglar to live with…

Glóin pulled the prince over to the side to check whether any supplies had been damaged or lost during the thunder battle. They’d been lucky this time that no food had been lost and they’d managed to keep all their personal possessions, considering a large enough amount of the food had been lost when the ponies had bolted. Fíli had just finished buckling his own bag back up when he felt Kíli wrap her arms around his chest and press her forehead against the space between his shoulders.

“Hey,” he whispered, twisting around in her arms, “hey…it’s alright Kee, I’m still here.”

Fíli heard his sister sniff and pulled her closer. He began humming a tune from their dwarflinghood, stroking her hair until he felt her starting to drift off. He scooped her up and carried her to the back of the cave. Bofur had set out their bedrolls next to his and Nori’s before going on watch, so all Fíli had to do was set her down and curl around his sister carefully.

“We’re all safe now _namadith_ , nothing’s gonna happen now…”

Thorin did _not_ need to know that Fíli had said that.

 

 

* * *

 

Fíli pushed his sister behind him in an attempt not to let the goblins get her. They were converging on all sides, grabbing and trying to snatch at them. He felt Kíli grab at his hand and for a moment he thought about how nice it would be if she were holding it because they’re lives _weren’t_ in danger for once.

“What have we here then?” The Great Goblin (and he was _ugly_ ) bellowed, “Thieves? Spies? _Assassins!?_ ”

“Dwarves, your Malevolence.” One of the goblins cackled, “We found them on the front porch.”

“Well don’t just stand there! Search them!” the obese goblin roared. Kíli slammed her elbow into one’s face as it attempted to stuff a hand down her overcoat.

As the others attempted to stall the goblins, Fíli passed as small dagger, which was attached to a long strip of leather, as quietly as he could to his sister, whispering reassurances. Kíli had never seen goblins before and, while they weren’t orcs, it was easy to be overwhelmed by their sheer _numbers_.

“Start with the youngest!”

Kíli’s face twisted, looking terrified as the goblins finally succeeded in pulling her away from her brother and to the front of the group next to Ori.

“Wait!” Thorin bellowed, stepped forward, acting oblivious to Balin’s exasperated look. He loomed before the goblin king (even though the latter _was_ bigger) putting himself between the goblins and the youngest two.

“Well, well look who it is! Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thror: _King_ Under the Mountain.” The goblin mocked, “But I forget, you haven’t got a mountain have you? Which makes you… _nobody_ really aren’t you?”

Thorin snarled and his fingers twitched for a sword that wasn’t there.

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head, an old…enemy of yours.”

The goblin cackled and – after sending a message to the thrice-damned Defiler – called for horrifying torture machines. But he would have a hard time getting the youngest onto them: Ori’s brothers had managed to manhandle him back between them when the goblins weren’t looking while Thorin had pulled Kíli behind him, not risking smuggling her back to Fíli.

He’d been so occupied keeping his niece safe; Thorin had been completely unaware of the goblins finding Orcrist until the Great Goblin was screaming for his head.

The flash of light and Gandalf’s call to arms had been the Company a second wind that had been desperately needed. The entire Company had managed to escape the goblin kingdom.

And the hobbit had returned. Thorin had been so prepared to give up on him, to accept another loss and failure in his long life. But he’d _come back_ when _nothing_ and _nobody_ else had and Thorin was finely forced to admit that the hobbit was a match for any of the Company.

The peace, however, was short lived. Wargs swarmed down from the mountain as the Company fled into the trees (Ori was _not_ writing that in his chronicle), balancing unsteadily on the thin branches. The small battle had seemed to be going in their favour, until the fires Gandalf had provided turned against them and they were all cornered on one tree at the edge of the cliff.

That was when Thorin saw him. Azog. Looking for all of Arda unchanged saved for the metal claw where his hand had once been. The claw and the guttural speech that was so _clearly_ mocking spurred Thorin to move. The memory of the dwarven blood this _creature_ had split and the thought of _justice_ for his kin led him down the tree’s trunk, Orcrist in hand and his oaken branch at his side.

But of course an orc would never play fair. The Defiler urged the White Warg forward, using the added height and speed to his advantage: smashing his mace into Thorin’s chest and managing to tear the king’s chainmail slightly. The warg then tackled him with its’ muzzle, rendering any attack all but useless. Everything was blurred together from the pain as he was thrown against the rocky floor, his eyes forced close from it. A guttural command forced Thorin to crack an eye open and watch as Azog ordered another forward. He tried to heave himself onto his elbows. He would not let any dwarf say that he had lain on the ground and accepted his death like an animal. He grasped for Orcrist as the Orc came closer, but the elvish sword had been just too far out of his reach.

The last thing Thorin remembered seeing was the halfling – the slight, unbattle-tested halfling – tackle the Orc.

Coming to was like a rush. He had been half-expecting to wake to Dís’ rightful fury for leading her children off into danger, to see his brother’s long forgotten smile and to be greeted by the rest of his kin, having done the best he could have done.

Instead he saw Gandalf, smiling benignly in the morning’s sun, as if he hadn’t just preformed some great miracle.

“The halfling?” He asked, his voice rough from misuse.

“Bilbo is here, he’s quite safe.” The wizard assured him, turning to look at the hobbit in question, now looking far too amused.

Thorin clambered to his feet with the assistance of both his niece and nephew to face the burglar.

“You!” He snarled, heart in agony at the sight – the unbelievably _perfect_ sight – in front of him, “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you have no place amongst us?”

The halfling barely had any time for his face to fall before:

“I have never been so wrong in all my life!” Thorin gasped, embracing the hobbit, holding him as close as his injuries would allow.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” He apologised as he pulled away, checking to see if the hobbit had any injuries of his own, smiling as he blustered, about how he wasn’t even a burglar – not yet anyway.

 

* * *

 

Their feet were now set towards Erebor and the bond between the Company was stronger then ever. Thorin thought that he could finally relax as they all descended the Carrock.

“Uncle?” A soft voice asked as the group rested momentarily before moving on – Dwalin on watch should any of Azog’s pack has followed them.

Kíli was stood behind him, Fíli by her side; both nervous and shaken. Thorin held one arm out and his niece surged forward, embracing him fiercely, uncaring of their combined injuries.

“Are you alright?” He asked thickly, pulling back to check her over, “Hmm?”

“We’re fine.” Fíli’s voice quavered, looking _too much_ like Thorin’s own grandmother had after Azanulbizar to be of any comfort. Thorin held out his other arm and Fíli slotted into the hug with ease. When Thorin closed his eyes, it was almost like when his sister’s children were younger, and Thorin could easily chase away their nightmares.

“Rest while you both have the chance, we do not know when we will be so lucky again.”

 

_End of Part Five_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta-dah!  
> …Writing in Thorin's point of view is _hard_ you guys.  
>  And there is thilbo!! Granted, very badly written thilbo…  
> Also, I have a new thilbo song: Say Something by A Great World.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Short Respite

_Part Six_

 

It could have been worse, Kíli acknowledged. They could still be in the wilds fast running out of food, instead of the warm, _safe_ hall where the host had promised more supplies and ponies after a few days rest.

Beorn – their host (a skinchanger) – had taken offense to their weapons (most notably Kíli’s bow) but had allowed them to train just to keep their skills sharp: their brush with the goblins and Azog had shown them they needed to be more prepared. Kíli herself was on the way to the training area, sword in hand.

“Kíli!” The hiss of her name caught her attention, twisting around to see her brother and Ori at either side of the overly large door.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, frowning when they only beckoned her closer. Sliding in front of Fíli, she looked out and saw…her uncle and Bilbo walking together, and even heard her uncle laughing!

“I didn’t think I’d ever live to see this.” Fíli commented dryly, pressing up improperly close against her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever since them have a decent conversation.” Kíli said in agreement.

“Should we follow them?” Ori asked softly as they walked out of sight – seemingly in awe. Kíli shook her head.

“Well…what do Bofur and Nori usually do whenever they walk off together?” Fíli mused sarcastically.

Ori went very red and then very pale.

“Oh…”

Kíli rolled her eyes and elbowed her brother in the stomach, ignoring his grunt of pain.

“Don’t be stupid! They wouldn’t thank us for watching what supposed to be a private moment… _regardless_ of what actually happening.”

Fíli practically pouted, but the colour returned to Ori’s face and he smiled hesitantly.

“I…I was just going to – to the…” He began, Kíli smiled softly.

“I’ll be along in a bit Ori.” In Rivendell – while Fíli had been with Thorin – Ori had shyly asked for some lessons on improving his aim and Kíli had readily agreed.

Fíli looked at his sister as the scribe wandered off down to the makeshift training area.

“So I suppose we won’t be getting any cousins then.” He commented, looking down the path where their uncle and hobbit had disappeared.

“It appears not,” Kíli agreed, “It seems that you will be the only one to carry on the line of Durin nadadel.” She pulled away, smirking.

Fíli raised an eyebrow.

“Really? And how will I do that.” He asked. The archer of the two snorted, sitting down on the bench.

“You’ll marry a beautiful dwarven lady to start-”

“Who would that be?” Fíli interrupted, folding his arms.

“I don’t know…Dáin has a daughter doesn’t he?”

“Who, I believe, is at least ten years younger than Gimli, yes.”

“Our own mother married younger.” Kíli pointed out.

“But what if I don’t want to marry Dáin’s daughter?” He asked, sitting down next to her, pressed to close than would be appropriate.

“Then you’ll marry some _other_ dwarven lady to start with after you get confirmed as Thorin’s heir _again_ and you’ll both have adorable dwarflings together.” Kíli sighed, leaning into him with her head upon his shoulder, “And your wife will hate me because I’ll spoil them rotten and she’ll never speak to me because of it.”

Fíli turned his head to look down at her.

“What if I don’t want to marry any _other_ dwarven lady?” He asked softly.

Kíli looked up at him, their foreheads pressing together almost automatically.

“Well namadith, what if I don’t want to get married to any of them?” his voice so soft it could barely be heard. Kíli swallowed.

“You have to marry Fee, you need to.” She insisted, licking her lips. Fíli’s lips were so close to hers, all she had to do was just lean a bit further in and…

Kíli sat up straight, her shoulders pulled back and blinking excessively.

“I should go I promised…Ori I’d help him with...” She mumbled out an excuse standing and walking away from her brother quickly, not looking back for fear he was watching.

She shouldn’t have done that. Why did she do that?

Fíli huffed in annoyance and leaned forward – head in hands. What – in the name of the Maker – had possessed him to do that?

 

 

* * *

 

 

The issue of Kíli training was not really…well, _an issue_. Every member of the Company (even **Bilbo** ) had accepted that she _wanted_ to be a warrior.

However, what was a – minor – issue was what she _wore_ for training.

Upon hearing that Kíli was joining them on the quest, Dori had (after throwing a fit – if you listened to Nori) designed her a whole new wardrobe and had completed half of it before the quest had officially begun (“ _As a sign of good faith_.” He’d insisted). However, the entirety of it was at the bottom of her pack – and Kíli had no intention of fishing it out. Especially considering the majority of them would be impractical.

So while she was telling Ori how he could improve his aim, Kíli wore her usual leather breeches and boots with one of her brother’s old woollen undershirts that – while it was secured at her waist by her belt – far too big for her, with the neckline drooping past her chest.

Bilbo – for one – did _not_ take this very well.

“It’s indecent!” He protested, Dori nodding in agreement. Bofur laughed at the pair.

“Laddie, all Kíli’s really known are her older brother’s clothes, she probably feels safer in them.”

Bilbo huffed.

“But why doesn’t Thorin _stop_ her?”

“Because, Master Baggins, I have learnt that you simply do not _tell_ my niece what to do.” The dwarf king rumbled from behind them, making Dori tut, Bofur snort with laughter and Bilbo flush pink.

A clash of metal distracted all as Fíli and Dwalin sparred on the other side of the arena: twin swords against axes.

The day had been unseasonably warm, and both had stripped down to their own undershirts – both of which were sleeveless to ensure a wider arm movement. The elder dwarves couldn’t help but notice how Kíli’s sure tone faltered as her brother caught her attention.

“Honestly – they aren’t fooling anyone!” Glóin protested from the porch, where he was sat with his brother and Balin.

“Do you think they’re secretly courting already?” Óin asked, for once quiet as he hammered his ear trumpet back into shape.

“No,” Balin huffed, pacing the width of the porch, “Fíli has been born and bred with honour – he would have _asked_ Thorin for permission before the Quest even began. Kíli would have done the same if her station was similar to his!”

“Maybe they don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to themselves by letting everyone know that they’re courting…” Glóin mused, already concocting a secret love story in his mind. Balin snorted at him.

“Thorin should have brought Fíli back to Ered Luin the moment Kíli came of age. They might have even had a babe on the way by now.” And Kíli would be safe.

“We cannot know what has not been.” Óin said almost serenely, “All we can do is carry on the path that we now tread.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bofur chuckled to himself, slouching down against one of the wooden beams as he watched the others cajole Bilbo into training with his letter opener. He wasn’t a warrior, and was happy to admit that as he lit his pipe and prepared to enjoy the show.

At least he would have, if there hadn’t been a sudden breeze over the top of his head.

“Put it back.” He said half-heartedly.

“Yeah yeah, I still think tha’ it suits me better.”

The miner snorted as he glanced at his One, who had the hat in question balanced precariously on two of the peaks of his hair; the same hat that no one touched and lived to tell the tale…well, metaphorically. The thief chuckled, relaxing against Bofur.

“I haven’t seen you making any toys recently.” Nori began, eyes fluttering closed and his breathing beginning to even out.

“Not had much time. What with Orcs, goblins and elves.”

“Oh my…” Nori yawned.

Bofur remained still until he heard the steady, deep breaths that meant Nori was completely dead to the world. He fished his hat back and managed to manhandle the taller dwarf in between his legs, letting his head rest on his shoulder.

“Sleep well love.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

 

_End of Part Six_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd realised that I call out Bofur and Nori a lot - but I hadn't really _written_ anything about them. 
> 
> And yeah - Fíli and Kíli need to work on their flirting. Maybe they should take a lesson from their uncle...


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into Mirkwood we go, and Thorin's not the only one who gets offered a deal...

_Part Seven_

 

Three days later Thorin had finally become antsy enough for the company to move on. Beorn had been happy to give them enough cram and bread and honey for their journey.

“There’s a strip of land between mine and Mirkwood that should have plenty of animals if you must use your bow.” The skinchanger had told Kíli gruffly as she fixed the buckle of her quiver’s strap, “But with the orcs becoming more and more present I do not know the exact numbers.”

“Thank you…for everything.” She’d said, bowing to him.

“There’s no need for thanks she wolf. For dwarves none of you are overly cruel…or greedy.” Beorn had insisted, “I may not care for gold or gems, but I know what it is like to lose all you care about.”

The ponies had probably gained at least a day’s worth of travelling back, but Thorin had been unwilling to allow Kíli time to hunt – impressing that the quicker that they got through Mirkwood the quicker they would have plenty of meat, and that they still had enough food to manage combined with the provisions Beorn had provided them – ignoring Balin’s muttering about how the folk of Lake-town wouldn’t trust a bunch of dwarves (everyone else didn’t hear).

Gandalf’s departure was also a bit of a blow. What if they got caught by something? Like this Necromancer that had been mentioned? They weren’t wizards – they couldn’t fight off something like that!

Fíli took his sister’s hand, unknowingly reducing her fear. After all, if Fíli was with her what did she have to be afraid of?

  

* * *

 

Fíli kept close to Kíli as they trekked through the forest, pushing her behind him when the Brothers Ri started on them. Losing the sun meant no one could tell whether it was night or day and as such only rested when they wanted to risk it. Everyone was disorientated and they’d lost the path. All they could really do was keep heading east, but how did they know which way was east?

“Quiet!” Thorin shouted over them. When they all looked at him, he hissed, “We are being _watched_.”

Very slowly, the company all look up as one and saw… _spiders_ : gigantic, slobbering _spiders_.

“Run!” Thorin yelled, not caring for silence when the beasts had obviously seen them.

The company split up – running through the trees. The spiders were faster though, scurrying through the trees tops on their many legs.

Fíli felt the sticky threads tug on him, so he shoved Kíli forwards before he was pulled above the ground.

“Fee!” The girl turned back, only to be caught herself.

 

The next thing any of the dwarves knew they were fighting their way out of the sticky webbing and running through the trees again, fighting off the spiders this time – as they somehow had gained the advantage.

Kíli grabbed her brother’s arm and helped him to jump onto the spider that was attacking Ori, only to be caught by one again. When it was _coerced_ (also known as Fíli slicing it to pieces with his swords) into letting her go, Kíli spun around and stabbed it between its many eyes, wincing at its squeal. Somehow she was separated from the rest of the group, fending off one of the last spiders. She heard her brother yell her name as she was thrown onto her back. But before the spider could attack her, a dagger was buried in its head. Kíli scrambled to her feet as she saw more spiders approaching.

“Throw me a dagger.” She demanded, glancing over her shoulder, “Quick!”

“If you think I am giving you a weapon dwarf – you are _mistaken_.”

Kíli couldn’t help but flinch as another dagger flew past her face to force itself into the last spider. She turned around to snap at the person, but the sight of another female (well, it had been _months_ since she’d last seen Surthi) made all the words die on the tip of her tongue.

Unfortunately the she elf did not seem to have the same problem. The tall redhead grabbed the small brunet by the shoulder, directing her back to the main group. Kíli grabbed her brother’s hand and held it tight.

“It’ll be alright namadith.” He whispered, low enough for the elves not to here them.

They were marched through the forest. Their mother and uncle had told them tales of Thranduil’s palace (their uncle had always had the better ones…like when him and their Uncle Frerin set up that prank involving some wine and mixed ‘herbs’). The elves led them to the dungeons…typically.

Kíli growled as her jacket was ripped from her shoulders and swung out trying to find the elf responsible. But the air of the forest was still affecting her and all she did was swing in a circle.

“They’re more dim witted than we thought!” one of the tree shaggers laughed, grabbing her tunic by the shoulder and he began to haul her to one of the cells.

“Kíli!” her brother yelled.

“Fee!” She twisted in the elf’s grip, trying to break free. Her captor laughed and threw her in the cell. She slammed against the bars, snarling at the guards, trying to break free.

She wasn’t the only one; she could hear Fíli and Dwalin, Óin and Glóin battering against their own bars determinedly.

“There’s no use!” Balin called out to them all, “There is no way out. This is no Orc dungeon. These are the Halls of the Woodland realm. No one leaves here, but by the King’s consent.”

 

Time was passing slowly. Kíli paced the length of her cell, not used to being confined like this and hating every moment of it. The cell door opening, however, broke the monotony.

“You, come with us.” The redheaded captain, who’d _helped_ Kíli against the spiders (it never did to be in an elf’s debt, her uncle always said), demanded.

“Why?” she asked, jerking away from the elf’s touch.

“The king wishes to speak with you.”

 

* * *

 

“You look like your uncle.” Thranduil commented, “The Prince Frerin.”

The girl didn’t reply.

“They say that dwarves have a One True Love.” The King drawled, looking down on the dwarven princess, “Someone that Aulë designed to complement and complete them.”

“How does _that_ concern _you_?” Kíli growled; making the elf think of the other dwarf he had spoken to.

“I was told by the guards who captured you that you were remarkably close to the sole blond dwarf of your company, and that you put up quite a fight when it came to separating you from him.”

Despite herself, Kíli started. Was her and her brother’s bond (even though neither had truly acknowledged it) strong enough even for elves to notice it? Thranduil let out a cold smirk.

“So, it is true.”

“It may be.” Kíli allowed, “But again: why does it concern you?”

“I would like to suggest an arrangement be made.” Thranduil rose from his throne, looking far too tall for Kíli’s liking.

“Of what kind?” she asked, shifting just enough to be able to fight him off. Thranduil smirked again.

“I shall release your kin…and your _beloved_ with their weapons, provisions and even a guide, on the condition…that I be given you in return.”

“What?” Kíli yelped, spluttering, “You–you expect me to willingly –”

“It has been done before.” The Elven-King told her nonchalantly, having made his way down the stairs while she’d been making a fool of herself, “Children of Durin have entered my halls and have lived full, happy lives and you are…interesting, my lady…Kíli, is it? So very interesting.” With one finger, he caressed her cheek softly.

Kíli huffed, her anger returning, she knew what he really wanted.

“I-I refuse-”

“You would doom your kin so?” Thranduil asked dryly, “You would force _your beloved One_ to rot in my cells?”

That gave Kíli pause. She knew she’d never forgive herself if Fíli died when she had the power to save him…but to submit to _Thranduil_ , of all people, to be forced to live in this dark, terrifying forest for the rest of her life… ** _to never see Fíli again, to hear his laugh or to never know if…_**

“I refuse.” She repeated, firmer, stepping back from him, “I refuse to bow to the _akhrûbabâl zurm_ who refused help to my people, who cause them to suffer and starve when he could have helped and try to save them! I hope you burn for your crimes!”

Thranduil sighed.

“You and your uncle are too alike to be of any use to your people.” The Elven King gestured to his guards, “There may come a time when you both regret declining.”

“I highly doubt that,” Kíli drawled, jerking away from the guards once more, “I can walk, you know.”

 

Once she was back in her cell, Kíli slouched against the wall.

“Lass,” Balin called out, “Did he offer you a deal?”

“He did.”

“And?”

Kíli smirked, “I told him he could–”

What followed cannot be recorded in either Common or Khuzdul, but rest assured that it made even _Dwalin_ turn ruby red.

 

**_\--:--_ **

 

“Why did you say no?”

The question jolted Kíli out of her thoughts to look at the she elf on the other side of the bars.

“What do you mean?” She asked warily.

“Nobody turns down the king, neither does he offer more than one deal. Yet both have been refused despite the promise of freedom.” The redhead sat on the step next to Kíli’s cell, “Why?”

“Well…Tauriel, right?” Kíli smirked slightly at the elf’s confusion, “When you truly love someone, you find yourself making decisions that probably won’t make that much sense to others.”

The elf’s lips pursed, and then frowned – as though she was contemplating something.

  

* * *

 

Shakily, Kíli began to climb out of her barrel. Everyone was distracted, they wouldn’t notice if she went and opened the gate. She hopped over the barrels and onto the stone walkway, ducking an orc’s sword as she landed.

“Lass!” Dwalin yelled, throwing the large, orcish sword at her. Kíli blocked the second swing, managing to switch their positions as she sliced the orc’s throat and kicked him back into the water.

Running up the stairs (and quite literally shoving another orc off the side of them) Kíli had – in her own opinion – not been noticed. She couldn’t help but grin as she got closer to the lever.

But suddenly, something slammed into her knee, rendering her to a juddering halt. At the source it felt like her knee alone had been dipped in fire while an unnatural cold had settled over her everywhere else and she _couldn’t move_.

 

“ _Kíli!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli overheard Legolas and Tauriel, the former of whom had gotten all big brotherly over protective of a dwarf taking too much (in his opinion) interest in his bby sister in all but blood - and that's how Kíli learnt Tauriel's name. 
> 
> Thranduil can act creepy when he wants to…
> 
> And if anyone's interested: Beorn gave Thorin, Fíli and Kíli nicknames to because he could tell they were important to the 'little bunny', Thorin is Wild Wolf, Fíli is Young Lion and Kíli is She Wolf…which she should be grateful for because if she was a guy it would be Little Puppy (according to Beorn).
> 
> I hope I did a description of the effects of the Morgul shaft justice...


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and cue the awesome Laketown music!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly in Fíli's point of view, but there's also some Kíli and Tauriel!
> 
> Also, Kíli is under the effects of the Morgul shaft for the whole chapter, except when she's high on kingsfoil, so there's going to be a lot of pain.

_Part Eight_

 

“How is it?”

Kíli glanced up at her brother from her place on the floor of the barge. The arrowhead had been removed and the wound cleaned and bound, but the pain hadn’t lessened.

“It’s getting better.” She lied, smiling as best she could. Fíli closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a hand curling into her damp hair, only letting go when his name was called.

“How is it really?” Bilbo asked as he crouched down next to Kíli whilst Fíli left to talk to Thorin.

“It’s _fine_.” She insisted, glancing back at her brother (One) and uncle before looking Bilbo in the eye, “It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch? Kíli that is not a scratch that is an _Orc wound_.” Bilbo hissed, pointing at her knee as if it proved his point.

“There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Kíli murmured, looking down.

“…I heard Thranduil’s deal.” Bilbo’s voice had dropped even lower, grasping the girl’s hand when her head snapped back up, her eyes widened in horror, “You’re very brave Kíli, much more braver than some give you credit for.”

Kíli worried her lip.

“Thank you Uncle Bilbo.” She whispered, giggling as he flushed red.

“Don’t look to me!” Glóin’s voice rose above the rest, “I have been _bled dry_ by this venture – and what have I seen fer it? Nought but misery and grief and-”

Kíli twisted around to snap back at the elder dwarf, but Bilbo’s gasp of awe prevented her from doing so. She grabbed the side of the barge and hauled herself up to see what was so captivating.

 _Erebor_ rose up before them, looking just as majestic and grand as it had always been in Thorin’s tales. She jumped as a hand pressed against the small of her back, but smiled when she saw her brother’s golden hair and leaned against him, ignoring the pain it caused her leg.

“Quickly,” The bargeman – Bard – walked up behind him, “Give me the money and get in the barrels.”

“We will give you the money when we get the weapons.” Balin snapped.

“If you value your freedom, you’ll do as I say. There are guards up ahead.”

Fíli gripped his sister by the hips and swung her into a barrel, ignoring her protests. Kíli winced as she crouched down into the barrel, biting her lip to mute any other noises – nobody needed to be worrying about her now.

The fish were _not_ a welcome surprise, Kíli groaned as she felt one slip down the back of her undershirt. She tipped the barrel over when she tried to climb out of it, her right foot slipping off the edge. Dwalin pulled her to her feet again but luckily knew better than to question her, just squeezing her shoulder before they followed Bard along the narrow walkways. Entering the house through the water was also not very welcome – but at least it got rid of the smell of fish.

Fíli pushed his sister down onto the first seat he saw and immediately went back to fixing her makeshift bandage.

“Fíli – leave it!” She snapped, jerking her knee away from him and bit back a groan. Fíli’s lips were pulled into a tight line, making her sigh.

“Just…wait until we’ve dried off and warmed up or something.” She muttered, fiddling with the hem of her undershirt. Fíli pressed a kiss to her forehead, his hair falling down to frame her face and the dampness had increase his natural scent, causing her to lean into him further.

“Excuse me, miss?” A small voice broke the moment. Fíli pulled away and Kíli smiled at the sight of one of Bard’s daughters – the smaller one, “We don’t have much for grown women – but we have one of my mama’s old dresses still if you want it…”

Kíli smile widened momentarily.

“I can wear the same as the rest, but thank you for offering.”

The little girl nodded, handing them both thick fabric jerkins and moved on.

“She has a kind heart.” The princess commented, putting the jerkin to one side for when she had dried properly dried off. Fíli grunted in agreement, his attention caught by Thorin and Balin coming over. Kíli gripped her brother’s undershirt to pull herself up so she could stand with them.

“Tomorrow begins the last day of autumn.” Their uncle stated immediately

“Durin’s Day falls next morn,” Balin pointed out, “We must make it to the mountain before then.”

“And if we do not?” Kíli asked softly, “If we fail to find the hidden door before that time, what then?”

“Then this quest has been for _nothing_.” Fíli growled at Thorin, glancing over at the others briefly.

Bard coming back in with a bundle distracted them all and Kíli limped over to the table to survey the pitiful amount of weapons.

“What is this?” Thorin growled

“A pike hook.” Bard told him shortly, “Made from an old harpoon.”

“And this?” Kíli asked, handling a hammer like weapon.

“A crow bell, we call it. Fashioned from a smithy’s hammer…it’s heavy in hand I grant you, but in defence of your life: these weapon’s will serve you better than none.”

“We paid you for _weapons_.” Glóin snarled, “Iron forged swords and axes!”

“It’s a joke!” Bofur exclaimed, throwing one back on the table, the rest following suit.

“You won’t find better outside the city armoury.” Bard tried to explain, “All iron forged weapons are kept there under lock and key.”

Kíli couldn’t really remember what happened next. Her knee gave out and she had to use the crow bell to help her sit back down. Looking at her knee, her breath caught when she saw fresh blood.

 

* * *

  _  
_ “You’re frowning Kee.” Fíli commented, watching her in the mirror as he cleaned up, “You’re not thinking back on what Thorin said are you?”

Kíli huffed.

“If we manage to slay Smaug – if he’s not already dead – Bard will have the right to reclaim the kingship of Dale, just as Uncle will reclaim the throne.” She began, “Uncle shamed him in front of _everyone_ , he has no right to do _that_. What if the impact of it is only known _after_ Dale and Erebor are reclaimed? What then Fee?”

“Then _you_ will talk to him, and _I’ll_ deal with the elves and Bilbo can keep Thorin occupied until they’ve all left.” Fíli said, only half jokingly, moving to sit beside her, “Bofur told me that you fell down the stairs in the armoury, he thinks that your knee gave out.” He murmured this part, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I tripped.” Kíli scowled at the (true) reminder, “It was a stupid accident…but it worked out for us, I suppose.”

Fíli bit back his usual response that she should care about herself more. If Kíli didn’t want to talk about it then they wouldn’t talk about it…for now.

“We should be going then. It’s rude to not show up to a party that’s being held in your honour.” He stood and offered her is hand, “My lady.”

His little sister giggled, accepting it with a nod of her head and a smile. Together they made their way down the stairs (Fíli biting on his tongue every time Kíli winced) and into the main room of the Master’s house, currently filled with as many people as could be managed, and all of them towered over the Company.

Bofur seemed to be in good spirits again, though Fíli wondered how much of it was because of the ale. When he saw them he smiled brightly.

“Fíli! Kíli! So good of you to come back down! We’d feared you’d gotten lost!”

Dwalin snorted at him.

“Nah – Fíli here knows left from right.” He joked, gesturing with his tankard. Kíli laughed at him, picking herself and Fíli up a tankard each.

“Where’s Thorin?” the blond asked, who’d been looking around and was unable to see the king. Dwalin choked on his own ale and Bofur grinned impishly.

“ _Well_ ,” The miner began, drawing out the word, “the last anyone’s seen of him was when he and Bilbo were stood in a doorway together _talking_ and now-” here Bofur shrugged, “-no one can find them.”

“…Are you saying that Uncle and Bilbo are…” Kíli made funny shapes with her hands, “ _you know_ …”

Fíli was less scandalised.

“I didn’t know Thorin had it in him.”

“Heh…he can move quickly when he wants,” Dwalin acknowledged, musing, “S’pose the fact we’re goin’ ta face a dragon t’morrow forced his hand a bit…”

Kíli groaned at the mental images.

“I am going t’ need a _lot_ more ale now.” She grumbled. Bofur perked up at that.

“Come on then! They’ve got a whole new type of drinking game here – it looks fantastic!” Bofur took the princess by the arm, leading her off to another part of the hall, where there were some grim looking men tucked away in a corner. Dwalin chuckled at them.

“I’ll go make sure they don’t get themselves killed,” He told Fíli, heaving himself up from his chair, “Sit and relax, you might not get the chance again for a while.”

With that the elder warrior moved off into the crowd, people moving out of his way, looking slightly unnerved. The blond could only laugh and take his place, having learnt from experience that Dwalin would gladly pick him up like his was a young pup and carry him back to his seat. The hope of a peaceful night was ended – however – when Nori collapsed into the seat next to him, with at least five tankards in his hands.

“Well, that’s a bit disappointing.” He commented, “Ah well, at least I have you for company little cousin.”

Fíli snorted in response, but he didn’t object to the name. It was true, even if nobody liked to talk about it.

“That’s a bit much isn’t it?” He asked, “Dwalin’s probably under orders to make sure me and Kee stay relatively sober for tomorrow.”

“He prob’bly is.” The thief agreed, “Anyway, s’not all fer you two…how’s she doing?”

 _That_ was typical of Nori. He’d ask serious questions like he was asking about the weather. At least he didn’t hide them in doublespeak – which gave Fíli a headache at the best of times.

“She’s still claiming she’s fine.” The prince sighed, “But everyone can see she’s not.”

“Aye…too pale, she was shakin’ a bit when we were invited into this dump.”

“What do you think it is?” Nori knew things; his ‘travels’ had ensured that.

“It could be anything: a simple cold to a deadly infection…”the redhead mused, “But it’s from an orc’s weapon...that opens up even more possibilities.”

“Well you’re full of optimism.” Fíli grumbled good-naturedly, not even sparing a glance, his gaze trained solely on his sister. Nori chuckled, “What’s so funny?”

“I just realised, underne’th the titles and…the legitimacy, you an’ I are a lot more alike than most think.”

“How so?”

“We’d do anythin’ to protect the people we love.” Nori told him solemnly. Fíli blinked despite himself, but before he could even begin to question it Bofur had collapsed into the thief’s lap, both of them tangling together.

“Thought you’d forgotten ‘bout me.” The miner snorted, thunking his _nearly empty_ tankard on the table (as best he could with his arms wrapped around Nori).

“Course not,” the other purred, “Just took a while to get the drinks is all.”

“You’ll be pleased to know that Bofur beat everyone at a drinking game.” Kíli sat next to her brother, leaning against him, her broad grin _just_ a shade brighter than it was before.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Nori grinned, and then he pushed one of the _full_ tankards into Bofur’s hands with a guileless smile. Fíli raised an eyebrow. For Nori, anything really did mean _anything_.

“Fee…” Kíli moaned suddenly, nuzzling up against him (and _no,_ Fíli did not freeze up), “’M tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed then?” He mumbled, sighing when she nodded, “Okay, come on then.” He slid his arm under hers and pulled her up, throwing one arm over his shoulders. Nori nodded at him solemnly, whilst Bofur downed around round of ale. Carefully, they began to make their way through the crowd, Fíli’s jaw constantly clenching when his sister stumbled. At the stairs, Fíli quickly lifted Kíli over his shoulder, carrying her up quickly.

“Fee…” She whined, “I can still walk…”

The elder snorted

“Maybe, but this is quicker,” He set her back down, “And I like feeling you in my arms anyway.”

…He hadn’t meant to say that…

Luckily, Kíli didn’t seem to register it, stumbling over to one of the beds the Master had had brought in for them.

“I’ll be better t’morrow,” She insisted, rolling onto her side, “…Just need some sleep.”

Deciding that it would be better if he didn’t comment, Fíli swung his legs up onto the bed and pulled her closer to him, so that he could rest his chin on top of her head. But, of course, his sister decided to be awkward, wriggling around until she comfy, which presented another problem…

Fíli had hoped that nobody would notice the aftermath of his late night bathroom visit. But as soon as Dwalin clapped him on the shoulder and commented on the interesting paint job of the room…Fíli sighed deeply as he made his way to the boat.

“Not you.” The entire Company (well…minus Bofur) turned to see Thorin holding his niece back on the dock, “We must travel at speed. You are injured: you’ll slow us down.”

Kíli blinked and then, thinking that he was joking, grinned at the king.

“What are you talking about? I’m coming with you.”

Thorin shook his head, continuing to load the boat up. Kíli’s grinned faded.

“I’m going to be there when that door is opened,” She insisted, “When we look upon the halls of our fathers… _Thorin_ …”

“Kíli. Stay here, rest,” Thorin cupped the back of her head, “Join us when you’re _healed_.” He smiled briefly. Kíli pulled her lips into a thin line before stepping back from him.

“I’ll stay with the lass,” Óin climbed out of the boat, “my duty lies with the wounded.”

“Uncle!” Fíli protested, “We’ve been raised on tales of the mountain, tales _you_ told us! You can’t take that away from her!”

“Fíli-”

“I will carry her if I must!”

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes for a mere second, “One day you will be king and you will understand…I cannot risk this quest for one dwarf, not even my own kin.”

Fíli looked at Kíli, who was refusing any of Óin’s help. What kind of brother - what kind of _One_ \- would he be if he left her here alone? …He stepped back off the boat.

“Fíli, don’t be a fool.” Thorin grabbed his upper arm, “You belong with the Company.”

Anger rushed through Fíli’s veins briefly. Why would Thorin try to keep them apart?

“I belong with _her_.” He spat in reply, jerking away from his uncle’s touch to join Kíli.

As Fíli walked away, Thorin looked down sadly as he boarded the boat. Kíli could only just manage the strength to glance at her brother.

“You should have gone with him.” She muttered. Fíli forgot how to breathe for a second. Didn’t she want him?

But he pulled her close to his side anyway, murmuring reassurances in her ear.

“Wait! Wait!” A familiar hat bobbed through the crowd and Bofur blundered to the dock’s edge. The older dwarf sighed before catching sight of them.

“Oh…did you guys miss the boat too?”

Fíli had the _perfect_ response to that, but it died the second Kíli slumped against him.

“Kíli?” He asked, shaking her gently, “Kíli!” his voice took a higher pitch when she didn’t respond.

Thorin had to force himself not to look back at his sister’s children. If he did all would be lost…

 

* * *

 

Fíli petted his sister’s hair softly. She hadn’t gotten any better since they’d arrived at Bard’s. Kíli was now sweating and groaning up a storm, having turned paler than Fíli could ever remember her being. Bard’s children had helped by piling blankets on the bed in an attempt to get Kíli to sweat it out. But that had failed and now the father of three was rummaging through the family’s medicine chest.

“Fee…” She mumbled, trying to turn her head to look at him.

“It…it’s okay Kíli,” He swallowed, his long held back tears clogging up his throat, “It’s goin’ t’ be alrigh’ just…just stay awake fer me okay?”

The girl smiled groggily. The blonde squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled away from the bed, shoving the door open.

Outside, the dwarf gasped for air, scrabbling for a hold on the bannister. Why did Mahal have to do this? Why did he feel the need to torture them both?

“You,” Of course, Óin had followed him out, “need to get back in there _now_.”

Fíli shook his head.

“I can’t-” he whimpered, “I can’t go back in there, I can’t watch…can’t watch her…”

Óin’s face softened.

“I know.” He said, grabbing Fíli’s shoulder, “I know it feels like yer world’s falling apart at the seams, but _yer sister_ needs you right now. And you need ta be strong for her. _Then_ yeh can break.”

Fíli swallowed, then nodded absentmindedly and straightened up, standing like a warrior of old. Óin moved out of the way, a slight smile making its way onto his face as the prince took up Bofur’s job of dabbing a cold cloth on his sister’s forehead, wincing when she cried out.

“Can’t you do something?” He asked, turning to look at Óin again. The healer scowled now.

“I need something to bring down her fever,” He admitted. Thunking sounds drew the dwarves’ attention as Bard dumping tins onto the table.

“…We have some fever few.” He offered, holding up one of the tins. Óin frowned, glancing back at the princess.

“Nah we need somethin’ stronger…do yeh have any kingsfoil?”

“No, it’s a weed, we feed it to the pigs.” The man looked up at them, frowning in distress.

“The pigs?” Bofur asked out of the blue. Fíli and Óin were reduced to watching the miner mumble to himself, almost as if he was mapping something out.

“Don’t move.” He said to them (or, more accurately, Kíli) before taking off. The other two dwarves shrugged at each other before turning back to Kíli.

“’M gonna…gonna rip that…hat to pieces.” The girl told them, her breathing now becoming laboured. Fíli smiled slightly.

“Of course namadith.” He agreed.

As time passed, however, Kíli’s health deteriorated even further. She’d paled almost to match the colour of milk and she was quiet save for her gasping breaths. Then the room shook and Fíli just about managed to brace himself against the wall.

It seemed that Smaug wasn’t as dead as they’d hoped.

The blonde looked at Bard, who looked just as worried as Fíli felt.

“You should leave,” He told the taller man, “Take your family, and go.”

“Where?” Bard asked mournfully, “We have no where else to go.”

“Are we goin’ to die Da?” The littlest girl – Tilda – asked.

“No darlin’.”

“The dragon, he goin’ to kill us isn’t he?”

Of all the things Fíli had expected, Bard revealing a Black Arrow definitely wasn’t one of them. Dwalin was going to be so _pissed_ when he found out.

That thought brought Fíli back to reality. Was everyone else okay?

After Bard and Bain left, Sigrid began to tidy up the mess her father had made whilst Tilda dragged another blanket over, giving it to Fíli.

“You’ll get cold.” She told him seriously. The prince smiled and made a show of wrapping it around himself to please her. Tilda grinned before leaving to help her sister.

It wasn’t long before Bain stumbled back into the house, babbling about the Master’s men and how he and Bard had been separated.

“Will anything bad happen?” Fíli asked, concerned for the man who’d willingly helped them.

“I don’t think so,” Sigrid replied firmly, wrapping an arm around both her siblings, “Da can run rings around them all before getting back here. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Despite her sure words, the eldest constantly looked out the window and often took a walk out onto the stairs. Eventually, someone came up the stairs but it certainly wasn’t Bard.

Fíli _really **hated** orcs._

He ran at the first one, stool in hand, slamming against it so it was trapped between him and the wall. Even after he was shoved away he quickly scrambled to his feet, throwing a small knife he’d found at one of them before pushing Bain under the table to join his sisters.

When the elves arrived, Fíli almost felt relieved (even though it was _their_ fault he didn’t have any weapons to defend himself with) as they finished off the orcs. He quickly checked on Bard’s children before looking over to the bed…to find Kíli gone.

She was on the floor, groaning again with Óin kneeling beside her. In a rare moment of good hearing, the healer looked up when Fíli practically stomped over.

“We’re _losing_ her.” The elder dwarf admitted.

You didn’t need to be seer to figure that one out. Fíli fell to his knees, hands hovering over her but Óin pulled him back before he could pick her up.

“Kíli, no Kíli please.” He whispered, grasping her hand in his, “Don’t leave me alone in this world, _please_.”

A tear escaped, trailing down his face before it hit the floor.

“Get her up on the table.” A short command broke through his melancholy. The red headed elf marched back through the door. Fíli almost protested but Bofur came up to him babbling about kingsfoil, so maybe it was worth a shot.

Carefully, the three picked Kíli up and moved her over to the table, Fíli grabbing a bag of walnuts to use as a pillow.

The prince could only hold his One…sister…down as she started jerking when the elf put the kingsfoil over the blackened arrow wound, doing his best to block out the screams. But he definitely noticed the difference as the kingsfoil apparently took effect, as Kíli’s entire body relaxed and her breathing was coming easier…

 

* * *

 

Tauriel looked up as the young girl began to stir.

“F-Fíli?” the brunette asked, her voice cracking and strained from her earlier cries of pain.

“Lie still.” The elf instructed softly. Her fellow archer slumped before laughing bitterly.

“No, it was just a dream, he will not be here…The _Golden Lion of Erebor_ must stand strong by our uncle’s side…and he can do better without his _elf spawn_ sister d- _dragging him down_.”

Tauriel frowned at that last utterance. Did the dwarves of Erebor truly think so little of her? Kíli was brave, fearless, and so very much worthy of her titles. _And why do they insist on using ‘elf spawn’ as an insult?_

“Do you think that…” Kíli began, “in another life…he could have loved me?”

Tauriel smiled sadly, the dwarven girl sounded so lost, almost heartbroken,

“Sleep, young one, all is well now.”

Kíli sighed, her eyelids fluttering shut. Tauriel gestured to the two girls, a subtle command for them to look after the dwarf.

“Tilda, grab her legs so we can move her to the bed.” The elder of the two muttered softly.

The she-elf turned to the other dwarves in the room. The grey haired healer and the one with the hat were physically restraining the blond one, who in turn had his eyes glued to his sister, ligaments taught and chest heaving.

“I should go and find Legolas.” Tauriel began simply, “She’ll be fine now, if weak in body and spirit.”

“Clearly you _don’t_ know Kíli then.” The dwarf prince muttered. Tauriel raised an eyebrow.

“If I may offer some advice, young prince? In my experience, love is often lost due to inaction on one person’s part instead of unreturned affections.” Smiling at his confusion, and with a last, lingering look around the room, the Captain took her leave.

“Stupid elves.” Fíli muttered, gripping the table. Óin and Bofur looked at each other, exasperated. The hatted dwarf ducked his head outsideand quickly looked around, in case any of the orcs had come back.

“Wind’s pickin’ up,” he commented, “S’that normal?”

“No…it’s normally still at night.” Sigrid replied from where she was sat comforting Tilda. Óin started.

“We have to get out of here.” He told them all, a faraway look in his eye.

“Why?” Everyone intoned, curious.

“Because unless I’m very mistaken, there’s a dragon headed right for us.”

 

_End of Part Eight_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fíli isn't convinced about Elvish healing methods.
> 
> And Óin had a vision! Like, a legit one!


	9. Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The build up is happening, and it's _terrifying_...

_Part Nine_

 

All turned to Fíli, as if expecting him to have a plan. The prince was gripping the table so tight it looked as if it was about to crack.

“Fíli lad…” Óin began, but it faltered when the blond turned around, eyes burning fiercely.

“Bain, can you steer your father’s barge?” He asked, sounding as if he was completely in control, smiling slightly as the boy nodded, “Right, we’ll head for there, then I can double back and get people moving out, even though we haven’t got very long – probably.”

It was a good plan – probably the best they had – so the three children started packing up the important things while Fíli slowly woke is sister up, cajoling her into putting on as many layers as possible before turning around, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling her up by her legs so he could carry her easily.

They hurried down the floating walkways, Bain taking the initiative to bang on people’s doors, telling as many people as possible about the incoming disaster.

Fíli was getting hopelessly lost as he followed Sigrid, but he eventually recognized the large square and grinned in triumph.

“Oh no!” Sigrid cried as they finally reached where they’d left the barge. Or what was left of it…

“Must have been the so called guard.” Bain spat in anger. Fíli growled, looking around.

“There!” He cried out, carefully setting _his sister_ down on a large bag and reaching over – clinging onto one of the beams – grabbed another boat. As Óin and the three children climbed into it, Fíli carefully lowered Kíli into the boat, tugging off one of his layers so she could have a pillow.

“Fee…” She mumbled. The blonde pressed a kiss her forehead – which was thankfully less clammy than before.

“I’ll come back.” He promised, hoping he could keep this one, pressing his forehead against hers briefly. As he pulled away, Bain grabbed his arm.

“The Black Arrow’s in the boat under the Master’s statue.” The younger said quietly, handing Fíli his father’s bow and quiver.

Bofur took his hat off, hesitated slightly, and then put it into Kíli’s lap.

“Look after that.” The miner said half seriously, “an’ give it Nori fer me if I don’t come back.”

“Bofur…” Óin said warningly.

“If you think I’m leaving _Dís’ son_ ‘ere alone when there’s a dragon coming you bet’er think again.” He snapped, “C’mon lad.”

Fíli was gawking at his friend, but shook himself and the pair made their way back to the town square, trying to help as many people as possible get everything into boats as they tried to get to the statue. The prince picked up a toy doll as he went, but he couldn’t find the owner.

“Fíli.” Bofur hissed. The dwarf hurried after the other. Luckily the crowd had begun to thin out and they made it to the statue. Looking under the tarp covering the boat directly under the statue, Fíli grinned at the sight of the pitch-black weapon. He marveled at how heavy it was, now understanding how it could pierce dragon scales but also how it could miss its target.

“Fíli! Take cover!” Bofur’s yell pulled him out of his thoughts as fire consumed the statue. The prince scrambled back over to the walkway, sighing with relief when he found out nothing was on fire.

“Nori told me where the gaol was-”

“Of course he did.”

“-and if Bard’s anywhere he’s probably there.”

 

* * *

Bard swore to himself as he dropped the spoon he’d been using to try to unlock the door. He refused to let himself die like this, to leave his children alone in the world, to be exploited by the Master and his ilk because Bard had been foolish enough to get locked up when a dragon decided to attack.

He’d just about given up on trying to get out when the door to the gaol banged open and two of the dwarves charged into the room, the blonde one carrying the Black Arrow.

“Where are my children?” He asked quickly, pushing is face against the bars.

“Safe – we got them on their way out of here before the dragon came.” The blond assured him, looking over the cell’s door, or more accurately the hinges, “Bofur! We’ll need leverage!”

The hatted dwarf – Bofur – yelled something Bard couldn’t understand before one of the benches was upturned and in front of his door.

“What are you both…” the bowman began to ask as they jammed the bench legs into the door, but the door suddenly popped off of its hinges and fell down.

“Old trick I learnt.” The blonde one explained casually, “Do you think you could use the Arrow?”

Bard blinked at the question.

“Of course, but probably not the wind lance.” He answered

“I don’t think that will be necessary, might not even be there now.” The dwarf handed the man his bow along with the Arrow, “Just get as high as you can.”

Fire billowed outside, lighting up the room.

“And what will you be doing?” Bard asked coolly, suddenly noticing how much the blonde looks like the dwarf king.

“Helping people get out if they need it.” The dwarf answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Bard blinked again. Clearly this dwarf liked surprising people.

  

* * *

 

Meanwhile, on the eastern shore of the lake, Kíli was finally lucid enough to walk again and was putting that fact to good use, pacing up and down while the rest were glued to watching the havoc that was Smaug.

“What were they thinking? They could be killed! And Bofur just gave me his _hat_! As if Nori would be content with just that! He’ll skin me! Alive!”

“Kíli, lass…” Óin broke through the rant in a way that suggested long practice.

“What-” Kíli’s voice broke off as she saw Smaug rear up, flames billowing in the sky before he crashed into the lake, creating gigantic waves that rushed over both the lake’s surface and the ruins of Laketown.

“Da!” The three children ran to the lake’s edge, uncaring of the water that lapped at their feet. Óin pulled them back as quickly as he could, berating them on their lack of caution, and didn’t they know that the dragon might rear back out?

Kíli sunk to her knees, gripping the hat tight enough for her knuckles to turn white and a low whimper escaped past her lips. The idea of Fíli _dying_ had never occurred to her before. What would happen now? What would Thorin say when they got to the Mountain? Was Thorin even alive? If he wasn’t who would take the throne?

“Look!” The smallest child cried out, pointing to the lake again. Kíli’s head shot up again and saw bubbles rising to the surface.

Bofur rose up, spitting out water, dragging a certain blond after him.

“Fíli!” The girl cried out in relief, stumbling to her feet and to the water’s edge herself, ignoring Óin’s exasperated remarks as she threw her arms around him. Fíli’s own arms came up around her waist and he buried his face into her neck, mumbling something that Kíli couldn’t make out repeatedly. All she could do was hold him tight and blindly shove Bofur’s hat against his chest.

The cry of “Da!” filled the air again, this time accompanied by the splashing of water and Kíli looked up to see the bowman hugging his children.

“Thank you.” The man rasped when he saw that the dwarves were still there, “Thank you so much.”

That seemed to rouse Fíli from whatever thoughts he was having, as he pulled away from Kíli to face the man.

“You should go to your people,” He told Bard, “They’ll need someone they can trust to lead them now.”

“Where will you go?” Bard challenged.

“To the mountain,” Kíli cut in, “to see if our kin still live!”

 

**_-:-_ **

 

Bard had let them leave after Kíli’s outburst and with four rowers they made it across the lake in quick time. Walking across the Desolation was harder, as Kíli still suffered from a limp and occasional twinges in her knee. It was a mostly quiet walk, not even Bofur managing to summon up any humour.

At last, they made it past Dale and were approaching what had been the great doors of Erebor but were now broken with a gap in the above wall.

Fíli sighed darkly, leading the group deep into the mountain, a strange feeling coming over him, something different than the steady heartbeat he felt whenever he was near Kíli. He ignored the questions the others were shooting at him and eventually they reached a small room that held the rest of the company. A company that stopped talking the minute they walked in.

“Bilbo!” Kíli cried out, hugging the stunned hobbit happily.

“Impossible…” Balin breathed as Kíli moved over to him, cupping the princess’ face in wonder. Dwalin laughed brokenly, clapping Fíli on the shoulder and he knocked their foreheads together gently, muttering questions to the lad as he pulled him into a bear hug. Bofur and Nori seemed to have become one person, the miner’s hat having been transferred to the thief’s head, the pair muttering to each other until Bombur peeled them apart to hug his brother, Bifur not far behind him. Óin and Glóin patted each other down, looking for injuries and making sure they were both actually still alive.

Fíli was the first to notice Thorin… or rather the lack of him.

“He’s still alive.” Bilbo hurried to reassure the prince, misreading the look on his face, “He was so worried about you-”

“If he was worried he’d be here now.” Fíli snapped at the hobbit, feeling slightly guilty at how he flinched, “Can you take us to him?”

Bilbo’s hands fluttered nervously, but eventually led them lower down into the mountain even though he shook with every step he took. Fíli pushed his sister behind him as they reached the golden treasure room.

But the treasure was the least of Fíli’s concerns when he saw his uncle in the middle of the room, wearing fur robes the like of which the blonde had never seen before. When Thorin caught sight of them, there wasn’t any relief that Bilbo’s words had suggested would be, but instead there was a look of _victory_.

“Welcome, my sister’s children, to the kingdom of Erebor!” His voice echoed eerily as he made his way up to them, patting Bilbo’s shoulder absently as he came up to his side.

“It is good to see you both hale,” He told them formally, “I trust the men did not harm you in anyway.”

“No, Bard and his family took us in, and kept us safe.” Fíli replied, the implied ‘ _while you did not’_ obvious, “In return we got his children out of town and recused Bard from the gaol when the dragon came.”

Thorin scowled at the mention of the bowman, but did not press for details, for which Fíli was grateful, as he didn’t want to have to explain how they’d been saved by elves.

“Go, find yourselves new clothes. None of Durin’s heirs should be wearing hand me downs!” The king ordered, turning back to the hoard.

“What is he doing?” Kíli hissed as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Looking for the Arkenstone.” Bilbo said with a very hobbit-y growl, “He’s become obsessed with it.”

“The Seven Lords swore upon that stone, it’s no wonder he wants to find it.” Fíli groused, “Has he eaten?”

“No, we can’t entice him away from the gold long enough.” The hobbit looked near desperate. Kíli grasped her brother’s arm to stop him from shouting.

“We can deal with that later, right now I think we _should_ get changed, these clothes are far too big.”

 

* * *

  

There were elves coming.

All right, elves _and men_ , but at the moment Kíli was more worried about the elves. Especially _Thranduil_.

The princess was convinced that the old spider didn’t leave his cave _ever_ , not even if the Mirkwood was burning. So why would he be here now? The mountain held nothing for him…unless he wanted to repeat his deal, and Thorin accepted – considering that his mind wasn’t his own anymore – in a way of keeping the peace.

Oh, and Bard was on a horse, but Kíli didn’t really know who was more uncomfortable about it; Bard or the horse.

The princess fidgeted with her chainmail as she stood by her uncle’s side. It felt like a dress, but far too heavy and _cold_. How could anyone else stand it?

“Will you have peace, or war?” Bard – who looked more like a king himself now come to think of it – called up to her uncle.

“I will have _war_.” Thorin growled back. Kíli’s head snapped to the side to gape at him, shocked. What had happened to the uncle who’d taught her how to wield a bow, or the king who’d lain down his sword to save Bilbo from the trolls?

“Excuse me,” the hobbit himself piqued up, “But isn’t that a tad unfeasible?”

“This doesn’t concern you.” Thorin told him, although his voice softened.

“There is an _army_ of elves out there, not to mention several hundred angry fishermen.” Bilbo said, exasperated, “We are in fact out numbered.”

“But not for much longer.”

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means, Master Baggins, that you should never underestimate the Dwarves.” Thorin smiled at the hobbit, “We have won the mountain, now we defend it.”

As Thorin once again left for the treasury – Bilbo scurrying after him – Fíli turned to his sister.

“He’s sent for Dáin hasn’t he?”

“Who else? Dáin’s the only dwarf lord in Middle Earth who doesn’t need the Arkenstone for Uncle to prove that he’s king, just Erebor.” The brunette sighed, taking her brother’s hand, “Everything will be fine, and Uncle can’t be serious about going to war can he?”

Fíli snorted.

“I don’t think I know who Thorin is anymore.”

  

* * *

 

 

“Bilbo!” Bofur exclaimed, jerking the ill sleeping company awake, “Where’ve you been?”

“I-I went to speak to Gandalf,” the hobbit’s hands fluttered, “He says that there’s an army of orcs heading for the mountain!”

“Orcs?” Fíli questioned, “Do the elves know of this?”

“Y-Yes, but Thranduil won’t listen to Gandalf’s advice on the three kingdoms banding together.”

“Thorin won’t either, and I doubt the bloody bowman can make them both agree.” Dwalin grunted.

Balin hummed in agreement with his brother before turning to Fíli.

“What would you do, my lord Prince.” He asked. Fíli blinked at the formal address, but answered gamely enough.

“I would join forces with them, allow the women and children refuge in the mountain…not that it matters, Thorin is still king and will soon find the Arkenstone.”

Bilbo hiccupped at the mention of the stone, and if they didn’t know their hobbit better they’d be suspicious.

 

**_-:-_ **

 

“I gave it to them.”

Thorin’s world _froze_.

He turned away from Thranduil, who had his unworthy hands on the Arkenstone and was looking _so fucking smug_ , to Bilbo.

His Bilbo, who was looking so nervous, stuttering out reasons that were sound to any sane mind until Thorin trailed his fingers over his smooth cheeks to his neck.

_~~Bilbo, beloved, givashel, One~~ _

**_Traitor_**.

Thorin closed his hand around Bilbo’s small neck and flung him over the barricades.

“Should I throw you down you friends now _rat_ , or let you run there yourself?”

Bilbo gasped at the force of Thorin’s grip, and the Company stood stock still in horror…save for Fíli and Kíli: the princess was forcibly holding her brother back from attacking Thorin.

The king threw the burglar back over the barricades onto the stone floor.

“LEAVE THIS PLACE AND NEVER RETURN!” Thorin roared before retreating back into the mountain, this time with Fíli hot on his heels.

  

* * *

 

 

“I will not deal with these _thieves_ anymore!” Thorin snapped, storming back into the treasury.

“They need help!” Fíli insisted, “They are merely people who have lost their homes. Have you not experienced that yourself? If you carry on like this innocent people will _die._ ”

Thorin scowled at him and his hand twitched.

“They merely want our gold – I will not let them have it.” He muttered, turning back to the hoard.

Fíli’s face started to drop, yet he steeled himself and forced out the words:

“So maybe they were not wrong then, those who doubted the Line of Durin.”

The king spun back to face his heir and marched forward, raising his left hand as he did.

Thorin’s rings dug into Fíli’s skin, leaving cuts and the blond gasped at the force of the blow.

“You know _nothing_! You are just a _worthless boy_ who lets his heart overrule his head!” Thorin roared, ignoring the voice inside of him screaming that this was _wrong_.

“Now _be gone_ , leave me in peace.”

Fíli could only watch – helpless – as Thorin stalked further into the treasure hoard. His hand came up to his face and he gingerly brushed his fingers over the cuts.

Before Thorin could come back and do worse, the prince slunk out of the treasury. As he made his way down the looming hall, Balin and Dwalin met him half way.

“We heard…”Balin began, trailing off when he saw Fíli’s face.

“I’m sorry but the king is indisposed at the moment,” the prince winced as the cuts were stretched, “As you can see he doesn’t want people disturbing him.”

Dwalin growled, glaring down the hall before grabbing Fíli’s shoulder and directing him back to where to Company were, yelling for Óin to come see to his face.

“It’s just a couple of scratches!” He protested loudly.

“Aye, but there might be something on the things that _gave_ you the scratches that’s bad for you.” The old healer growled back, “I assume you couldn’t talk Thorin around?”

Fíli looked around the room, at all the scared faces.

“I’m sorry,” He told them brokenly, “I’m so _sorry_.”

 

_End of Part Nine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably end up re writing some of this after I've seen the movie if i'm honest…  
> And Thorin is being a bad uncle at the minute *shakes head*  
> And there will be more fiki moments in the next chapter I promise!


	10. Part Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *starts playing the Sons of Durin*  
> and fiki moments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember - the tag 'Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies' is relevant to this fic...

_Part Ten_

 

Bard glanced down at the hobbit from where he was sat. Bilbo had a blanket wrapped around him and was looking shell shocked down at the floor.

“Thorin wouldn’t do that,” He mumbled, “Not the normal Thorin…not my…but if it was the normal Thorin I wouldn’t have had to give it to you anyway.”

Bard squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. Thranduil, however, snorted.

“The dwarves will easily be defeated, we will get what we need then.”

Gandalf huffed.

“You need to worry less about your wounded pride and more about what is coming!” He insisted, “The orcs will overrun us all if you do nothing!”

Bard glanced the elven king, who seemed too composed.

“They will not do damage to _my_ kingdom.”

“They will!” Bilbo snapped out of his daze, “If they manage to take Erebor where do you think they’ll look next? They’ll cut down the forest and kill every elf living there because _you_ were too prideful and arrogant and too eager in ruin a young girl’s honour!” The hobbit gasped when he realized what he said. Bard and Gandalf shared a look. Thranduil’s eyes narrowed.

“I could tell them if you want – I can tell them _exactly_ what you said to her.”

Thranduil scowled at the hobbit and swept out of the tent, shouting orders in Sindarin.

“He’s ordering them to be ready for an attack from the south,” Gandalf breathed out in realisation, “Well done Bilbo.”

The hobbit smiled half-heartedly at the wizard, sinking back into his seat. After Gandalf left, Bard looked once again at the hobbit.

“That girl…”He began cautiously, “It wouldn’t by any chance be Kíli would it?”

Bilbo shivered, a faraway look in his eye.

“Don’t ask me about that, please, having seen it will haunt me I’m sure…”

 

* * *

 

Fíli pulled his leather jerkin over his new chainmail angrily, cursing his uncle and his great-grandfather as he did. He had looked out over the battlements that morning and saw the elves and men readying for an attack, which prompted him to send another raven to Dáin, informing the other dwarf of more recent developments.

Fumbling over one of the bracers, he swore loudly and threw it onto the table.

“F-Fee?” A voice asked from the doorway. The prince took a deep breath before turning around, smiling at whom he saw.

“I found these for you.” His sister held out two swords. They weren’t a twin set - nothing like what he was used to - but they’d serve their purpose and had the correct balance.

“Thank you namadith.” He smiled again at her, attaching them to the belt he’d found. It was then he noticed the other sword she held.

“Is that for Nori?” He asked, trying to keep his smile in place.

“No…it’s mine.” She said it so boldly Fíli couldn’t help but snarl.

“What?”

Kíli shrugged,

“I’m fighting in the battle.” She told him, strapping the sword to her own belt.

“No.” He argued, “No you’re staying here.”

“Why?” She challenged, “So the orcs can have an easier time of finding me to rape me?”

“Do you truly think so little of our fighting ability?”

“No I just think that I’d be of better use out there than in here.”

“I don’t want you to fight in this! This isn’t some simple skirmish in a forest - this is a true battle!”

“If I wasn’t prepared for this kind of fighting I would have stayed in Ered Luin!” Kíli snapped

“And maybe I should have made you stay there!” Fíli roared, not caring if they attracted an audience. Kíli bit back her response, took a deep breath and reached for him.

“Fee,” she began, taking his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together, “It’s my right to fight for our home. As much as it is Thorin’s or yours.” Kíli smiled weakly, “And this is one duty I would never fail.”

Fíli’s breath caught.

“Kíli - don’t -”

“I’d die for you Fee, surely you know that.”

His hands trembled as they pulled away from his sister’s to rest either side of her neck, his thumbs stroking her jaw softly.

“I can’t lose you Kee.” He admitted softly, feeling almost as though they were back in their room in Ered Luin and none of this had passed yet, “I…I just _can’t_. I’ve nearly lost you once already – isn’t that enough? I lo…I can’t lose you Kíli, please don’t make me lose you.”

As he spoke, Fíli’s voice became higher and faster until his usual calm façade broke and he could only pull her close to him, hot tears splashing down into her hair. Kíli wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face against his neck.

Eventually Fíli pulled away, his eyes bloodshot and the surrounding skin was red and swollen.

“I can’t change your mind can I?” He asked softly, slumping into her as Kíli shook her head.

“I’m sorry Fee, but this is how it has to be…” The girl tried to smile at him, but it didn’t quite work, “I wanted to give you this as well.”

Kíli pushed at warm, coiled up strip of leather into his hands. The blond unraveled it carefully and looked it over. It had a simple design: a long dark brown strip with two square shapes at the ends, with the crest of Durin sewn on one and Kíli’s personal insignia at the other. Mahal only knew where she had hidden it, but given where the map and key had been it certainly would have been inventive.

“I can’t take this,” he told her reluctantly, “You’re supposed to save it for your-”

“I _want_ you to have it Fee,” Kíli interrupted him, “You’re the only person I can think to give it to and…and it’ll remind you to come back to me.”

The younger sibling pressed a kiss to the elder’s cheek as she tied it around his wrist, smiling sadly…Fíli wanted to kiss her back, properly, but he couldn’t bring himself to and felt like such a coward for it.

“Here,” Kíli’s voice sounded oddly high as she reached for his abandoned bracer, “Let me.”

The prince swallowed heavily. In all his dreams of this, a part of married life, never until now had he been certain that it was _Kíli_ who stood in front of him.

“Now you look like a prince.” She told him, reaching up to press their foreheads together, brown eyes locking onto blue, the pair silent save for their breathing.

“Fíli! Kíli!” Dwalin called for them both, breaking the moment. They pulled apart and put a distance between them just in time for the warrior to round the corner.

“Thorin wishes to speak to us all.” The elder dwarf shifted from one foot to the other, “He seems…different…I think he wants to fight now.”

“After the battle has already begun?” Fíli scowled, but at Dwalin’s look he conceded and made his way to the entrance hall. As Kíli made to follow him, Dwalin caught her arm.

“I know how you’ll feel about this, but there’s no shame in staying behind lass.”

Kíli was now the one to scowl.

“I will fight for my home, my brother and my king.” Even if they were all one and the same in the end, “Tell me Dwalin, that you wouldn’t do the same.” 

 

* * *

  
Dáin grunted as he swung his war hammer in defense of an _elf_ , which just felt wrong to his pride, but in the necessity of battle he let it slide.

“Where’s Thorin?” he yelled to the next dwarf he saw, “We need him!”

After receiving a negative reply, he reluctantly called for his men back to the front gates, surprised to see the elves and men present follow him. The dwarves set up another barricade whilst elven archers drew their bows. Time seemed to slow as the orcs approached, until the horn and bell sounded out, loud and almost joyous and Dáin turned to see his cousins (legitimate and not) pour out of the mountain.

“TO THE KING!” he roared, joining the stream of Durin’s line as they clashed with the enemy once more.

“DÁIN!” Thorin yelled, “How did you know of the orcs?”

“Yer nephew – Fíli – he sent a raven to let us know.” Dáin called back, “A smart lad tha’ one.”

 

**_-:-_ **

Legolas withdrew Orcrist from its sheath. He had always been told that it was safer to save his arrows until he really needed them. And what type of warrior would he be if he didn’t use a sword sometimes. The prince fought his way through the orcs, trying to reach his father’s side. Tauriel was fighting with the Men as well as trying to protect the children. Legolas only hoped that he would see her again, even if she could never return home.

A cry returned him to the present. One of the dwarves, the blonde one – Thorin Oakenshield’s heir – was scrambling backwards from an orc, weaponless. Acting purely on instinct Legolas threw Orcrist, watching as the blue blade arced in the air before burying itself into the orc’s head. The dwarven prince rolled to the side and, when he got to his feet again, pulled the sword out letting the orc fall to the floor. Legolas smiled despite himself, glad that he could at least help someone.

 

**_-:-_ **

 

Thorin groaned in agony as he was again thrown to the floor by the Defiler. He supposed he should be grateful that this time it hadn’t been by the White Warg. He’d seen Kíli take out the beast not long ago, with one of the few arrows that they’d found in Erebor, firing it into the back of its head whilst standing on its back.

The king grabbed hopelessly for another weapon as the monstrous orc approached him, feeling a sickening sense of de ja vu…but he highly doubted that his hobbit would save him again, not that Thorin would blame him.

Just as he began to pray for Bilbo’s safety, a loud cry broke through the air and Thorin was shocked to see his nephew (who he was positive hated him) leap over him and block Azog’s sword with Orcrist (and who knew where he’d found that).

The Pale Orc snarled and swung again, but Fíli blocked every move. Thorin’s nephew began to shove the orc again from the king and seemed to be wearing the beast out…until out of nowhere the claw swung up at slammed into Fíli’s side.

The prince gasped and his grip on the sword faltered, making Azog smirked (if an orc could smirk) and move back from the blond…there was his mistake.

Fíli retook control of the sword and plunged it into the orc’s chest. Thorin smiled despite the pain as the Pale Orc juddered and fell to his knees, eyes falling shut. The claw fell down from Fíli’s side and the prince groaned, stumbling a few steps to the side before falling backwards, Orcrist still in his hand.

Thorin tried to move, to reach him, but he struggled to even twist onto his side. Grunting in pain, Thorin thought he could hear his beloved’s voice calling about the eagles before everything was drowned out by Kíli’s horrified scream.

 

**_-:-_ **

 

“Fíli!” she cried out, running and falling to her knees by his side, checking him over for injuries. Kíli winced as her hand sank into a deep wound on his right side, blood dripping off of her hand in mere seconds.

“It…it’ll be alright Fee, Óin will have it stitched up again in no time. I-it’s not so bad.”

Her brother smiled sadly.

“Kíli…you’re so beautiful.” He choked out. He pulled her hand away from his side and despite her resistance pressed it to his cheek.

“Fíli…” she whispered, “Please…give me my hand back, I h-have to stop the-”

“I love you Kíli,” He murmured, his eyes greedily taking in her features, as if this would be the last time he saw her, “Love you so much it hurts…” he trailed off and his eyes fluttered close.

“Fíli? No no no Fíli no.” The heartbeat was fading. _Why was it fading?_ “…Fíli stay with me!” she pleaded, pressing her forehead against his, her bloodied hand moving back to his side, pressing down fiercely.

“Fíli please…” she begged, head tipping to the side, her lips ghosting over his cheek,

“The world will be too dark without you…”

 

_End of Part Ten_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et c'est fini!  
> What did you think? Did I do it any justice?  
> Let me know :D


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